


Therapy Pet

by blackchaps



Series: People Aren't Pets [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Dehumanization, Dystopian, M/M, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-24 09:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: After returning home from Afghanistan, Tony finds himself unraveling. The Board and Obadiah are poised to remove him, but Pepper has a plan, and Tony is desperate enough to try anything, even getting a pet.





	1. Chapter 1

“This is serious, Tony. This is the Board of Directors talking to you.” Pepper even pointed her finger at him. “Make an effort to deal with your PTSD, or they’re going to file an injunction against you, lock you out of your own company.”

Tony believed her. He did. He just wasn’t sure he was capable of doing anything that could placate the assholes. “No therapy. I did that for years before Afghanistan! I’m done!”

“I know.” She sighed. “Group therapy? Pet therapy?”

“What?” Tony blinked at her.

“People with PTSD get a therapy pet to help them through the flashbacks.”

“That’s a real thing?” Tony didn’t quite believe it.

“Scientifically proven to help.” Her smile now was cautious. “I’ll have an agency send a dozen or so over. You can choose one you like.”

“And this will placate the Board?” Tony wanted to be left in peace in his workshop. That was all. If the doctors in Berlin at the Air Force hospital had kept their fat mouths shut, he wouldn’t even be dealing with this shit.

“I’ll make it work.” Pepper would, too. She marched away with steel in her spine, and Tony scurried down to his workshop to pretend nothing would come of it. Upgrading and downsizing the arc reactor was turning out to be the easy part. Getting all the wiring straightened out was hell, and the repulsors placement was crucial, or he was never getting off the ground again.

A thousand thoughts and ideas circled through his brain, and he kept Dummy busy until it all slowed down and he collapsed on the sofa. His last thought was a wish for more coffee.

********

“You have to pick one!” Pepper hissed at him.

Tony felt like his brain was seizing up. He could barely breathe. “No. Just. No.” He turned on his heel and left them all there: the pets, Pepper, Happy, and the guy who had loomed over Tony, explaining the qualifications of each pet in excruciating detail. He ended up out on a balcony with a scotch in his shaking hand, hoping they all left soon so he could get to his shop. “Jarvis, that was a horrible idea.”

“I believe the idea was sound, but the execution lacked.” Jarvis was probably right. “Perhaps, you could look at pictures on-line until you find one that is suitable.”

“I can do that?” Tony waved his drink, knowing he was being ridiculous. “Never mind. Did you hear that guy? The pets are trained to comfort me, sit in my lap. I’m not sure I can handle that. That one pet was huge! Maintenance alone would drive me crazy.”

“Any pet can receive a therapy certification. They are easily available online.” Jarvis was brilliant, and in a blink, Tony knew what he was going to do.

“That went well,” Pepper drawled.

Tony cringed before straightening his shoulders and turning to face her. “There were too many variables all at once.”

Her gaze softened. “I’m sorry, Tony. I forgot that large men can be a trigger.”

He gave her a look that would’ve killed his last personal assistant. “He was in my face. No one likes that.”

“I’ll get a different agency,” she said softly. “Vet them more carefully. I was impulsive. The Board is pushing hard, and Obadiah isn’t calling them off.”

Shaking his head, Tony made sure to sound firm. “I’ll handle it. Give me a week.”

“Three days. There’s a Board Meeting on Monday.” She was always a keen negotiator.

“Fine.” Tony needed a bit more control right now. “That’ll be all, Miss Potts.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” She click-clacked away, and Tony made a break for his workshop, thinking he might install another entrance around the back.

“Jarvis, let’s tackle this like we would any other project.” Tony cracked his knuckles and made sure all his computer screens were on.

“An abundance of coffee and a lack of sleep?”

“Exactly.”

But after only thirty minutes of research, Tony was ready to scream. “Jarvis, this is all wrong.”

“I had suspected that would be your reaction. Kill shelters are deemed necessary by municipalities, mainly to keep populations down, or so they proclaim.” Jarvis managed to sound disapproving. “There are few sanctuaries for unwanted pets.”

Tony had noticed. “Jarvis, have you had any new projects lately?”

“Besides the coding on the Mark II?” Jarvis paused. “No, sir.”

“Then you’re bored. Standard budget?” Tony could see this might be expensive, but he was known for his charitable works. This would also convince the Board he was serious about the issue, and maybe they’d leave him the fuck alone to get his suit done.

“I will make it work.” Jarvis started putting up his plans on the computers, and Tony went to get more coffee. “Shall I focus my efforts nationwide or solely on California until I have a working business model?”

“Surprise yourself.” Tony added some sugar and went to his desk. “I’ll get my pet from the local kill shelter. The most bedraggled one they have. It’ll sleep in the corner and leave me to work.”

“I doubt he or she will be that cooperative, but you can hope.” Jarvis continued to fill the computer screens. “The local shelter opens at nine a.m. tomorrow. I’ll alert Happy and draw up a route that includes a trip to a pet store with a grooming center.”

“Sounds awful, but it has to be done. God, my life sucks.” Tony would worry about it tomorrow. He pulled up the wiring schematic and wondered if anyone would notice if his ass puffed out.

********

The stench drove Tony back a step, and Happy steadied him. This was a place that pets came to die – the waiting period was just seventy-two hours. No one ever came to rescue them. There wasn’t time. He’d read the rumors online about the bodies being taken to rendering plants where they were made into pet food. He believed it now.

“Boss?”

“I’m okay.” But he wasn’t, and he was upping Jarvis’ budget for this project. The lady at the front desk recognized him, and it all went south from there. He thought he might actually pass out when he did a tour of the kennels, escorted by three employees who all fawned at him. He kept Happy between him and their grasping hands, trying to keep breathing.

The clamoring from the pets made him both furious and disgusted. He could only choose one, and they all needed homes. When he hit the end of the row, he wanted to put his hands over his ears and run back to the limo.

“See one you like, Mr. Stark?”

“That one on the end is a good one! She never gives us trouble!”

“Can we get a picture? Or three?”

Tony turned a pitiful look on Happy, needing advice. Happy raised his hands helplessly. “They’re all nice.”

One of the employees reached for him, and Tony shuffled back, bumping into a large crate.

“Careful! That one’s vicious! He’s scheduled for termination, well, as soon as you’re finished here.”

Tony turned completely around to see a big, white plastic crate with vents and a gated front. There was a scratching noise from deep inside, and he squatted to see. Curled up in the back was a pet who had seen better days. There was blood, and the way the pet was sitting made Tony think something was broken. Their eyes met, and he stared into a hopeless reflection.

“What happened to this one?” Tony needed to know.

“Hit by a car. Came in fighting. We usually have the vet look them over, but no reason this time. Like I said, that pet is due for the pit.”

Not knowing what the pit was didn’t make it sound any more attractive. “I’ll take him, her, whatever.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a roll of hundreds. “What’s the fee?”

“A hundred, but…”

“You’ve all have been very kind.” Tony counted off ten hundred dollar bills. “Happy, can you get that crate in the limo?”

“It’ll be tight, but yes.” Happy looked worried. “You sure, sir?”

“Yes.” Tony counted off ten more hundreds, watching all their eyes shine with greed. “I’m sure these lovely people will take care of the paperwork.”

“You betcha!”

He did relent to a picture, but only one, and the outside air felt so good after being in that… hellhole. Leaning against the limo, he took deep breaths, shut his eyes, and didn’t think about dark caves or the smell of urine. He didn’t. He didn’t. And he breathed.

“Jarvis?” Tony thumbed his phone.

“Here, sir.”

“We’re going to need a vet.” Tony stayed turned away from the kill shelter.

“So I can assume you have found a suitable candidate?”

“I highly doubt it, but I’m not leaving this one behind.” Tony would find this one a home and pick the next one off the internet like a civilized man. “Up your budget by twenty percent and shut these places down.”

“I’m endeavoring to do so. It will take longer than eight hours.”

Tony stuffed his phone in his pocket and got in the limo, not thinking about how all those pets would be dead within a day or two. The scotch in his mouth kept him from flashing back, and the cursing from Happy as he wrestled the crate inside helped as well. The stink nearly sent him running away, and he quickly moved to the front seat, passenger side.

Happy flopped down in the driver’s seat and gave him a look. “This job is never dull.”

“You’d quit if it was.” Tony turned the air conditioner to high. “Drive, Happy.”

********

“Sir, are you sure you should open that door?”

“He - the balls were a giveaway on that – is drugged to the gills. The crate stinks. It’s going.” Tony opened the door and moved away quickly, just in case. “The veterinarian had all his limbs when he was done. There was a bite or two, but nothing severe.”

“Perhaps you should go upstairs.” Jarvis was far too cautious about everything. “Since you were unable to go to the pet store, I ordered a number of items to be delivered tomorrow.”

“Great.” Tony slowly sat on the sofa, never taking his eyes off the opening. “You can track him? Just in case he jumps out a window?”

“Yes, sir. He is chipped like all pets, though his is an older model. I suggest getting him a new one as soon as possible.”

“If he doesn’t chew my hand off, I’ll consider it.” Tony could feel his heart racing. He wasn’t sure if this counted for therapy or not.

“I’m surprised he’s an intact male. Many pets are neutered or spayed at quite a young age.”

“Let’s never discuss that.” Tony flinched back when a sudden flurry of motion produced a staggering, furious pet. One who looked ready to chew his way to freedom, if necessary. With barely any hesitation, the pet jumped and climbed to the top of the kitchen cabinets to glare down at Tony. His injuries, broken parts, various cuts and bruises, didn’t slow him down. “They aren’t going to come off the wall, are they? I should’ve gotten a smaller one.”

“The cabinets are secure. May I again suggest you run for your life?”

“Get someone down here to haul out that stinking crate.” Tony moved to the other side of his shop and began sorting through more wiring, the legs, he hoped. “Pepper’s gonna kill me, if the pet doesn’t eat me first. Dummy, stop staring and clean up this mess. I suppose I have to name him. I’m horrible with names.”

“Sir, I hate to interrupt, but he does have a name. I have accessed his file.”

“One less thing to do.” Tony didn’t glance at the holograph that displayed the pet’s history. “What is it?”

“Clinton Francis Barton, sir.”

********


	2. Chapter 2

“Tony, FOX news is saying you bought a pet for the fight rings!” Pepper’s voice carried clearly all the way under the car where Tony was just finishing up an oil change. He popped out, wiped off his hands with a dirty rag, and considered a place to hide.

“Jarvis, is our guest still in his nest?”

“He hasn’t moved, sir. From his vitals, I believe he is asleep.”

“He’s got to be deaf,” Tony muttered. It’d taken one hour for Tony to realize that his pet could not loom over the coffee pot like the harbinger of death for the rest of their lives. Very quickly, he’d gotten a crew down to build an elevated platform - ladder access - near the windows, because everyone likes an ocean view, and Jarvis had made sure the pet had nothing but luxurious bedding. Once the crew finished, it’d taken all of three minutes before it’d been occupied.

If only getting him to shower were so easy.

“Tony?”

“Hi, Pep.” Tony watched her stare up at the platform. It’d taken two days for her to tackle him in his lair, and since the wiring was coming together, he had been playing with his cars. Jarvis had suggested a nap, but that wasn’t happening. “I’m in the news?”

“All over the news. There are also reports that you’re setting up your own fight network with the thousands of pets that you’ve purchased over the last two days.”

Tony decided that silence on that issue was for the best. He’d throw Jarvis under the bus later. He snagged his cup of coffee and sat on the sofa. “His name is Clint Barton. He was orphaned at age eight, chipped, and sent into the system. Disappeared at age ten, no record of any scans until the other day when he was hit by a car and taken to the kill shelter by the police. He has a broken arm, multiple stitches, and bruises.”

“Not a therapy pet.” Pepper sank down next to him.

“Oh, his certification came though yesterday. Jarvis had everything printed and put on your desk.” Tony sipped his coffee. “I’m not sure he’ll be ready for the Board Meeting, but I could take pictures.”

“I’m not sure the pictures I have of him would be reassuring,” Jarvis said. He flashed a number of pictures up on the nearest screen. “The one of him sleeping might be adequate.”

Pepper looked slightly appalled. “You should’ve--”

“Left him to die? They were going to kill him – in the pit – after I left.” Tony ducked his face away from her. “We can re-home him later, if he hates me.”

“Oh, Tony,” she whispered, leaning against him. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Tony buried his face in his coffee mug and slurped it all down. “Lucky, huh?”

Pepper shot a glance at the platform, and her eyes widened. Tony didn’t even look. “Tell me he’s not peeing over the edge. Again.”

“He’s not.” Pepper swallowed hard. “He looks feral.”

“Jarvis has hopes a shower will be in his near future.” Tony had worried about his shop at first, but Jarvis had reassured him that his pet was curious but not destructive.

“If you’re sure.” Pepper still sounded worried. “They say shelter pets are always grateful.”

Now Tony snuck a peek, and Clint – not a great name – was on the ladder, hanging gracefully to the side, as if waiting for his circus act to begin. “Jarvis, let’s get Clint some clothes. I see his balls more than my own.”

Giggling softly, Pepper turned bright red. “I was guessing he wasn’t neutered.”

“Don’t even whisper those words.” Tony eased to his feet and refilled his coffee mug, adding some sugar. “Dummy likes him. You is worried he’s being replaced.” He thought he saw his pet lick his lips. Moving slowly, he took a coffee mug – the kind with a lid – filled it, added sugar and handed it to Dummy. “Delivery for our ladder monkey.”

Dummy whirred and beeped, but he took it and zoomed to the ladder. Clint almost vanished up onto the platform, and Dummy extended his claw as far up as it could go. There was a flash, and the coffee was gone, up into the nest. Tony controlled a grin.

“Maybe you don’t need someone to take care of you. Maybe you need to take care of someone.” Pepper stepped over to him and dropped a kiss on his forehead. “I need your signature.”

“Of course you do.” Tony went to his desk and collapsed like a puppet with no strings. “Miss Potts, you wear me out.”

********

It became a ritual. Tony gave things to Dummy to deliver to Clint, and Clint usually accepted them with good grace. The tennis ball came whizzing back at Tony’s head, but that was expected. If Tony hadn’t ducked, he’d have been nailed between the eyes.

The shower didn’t happen until after Tony had given up on it ever happening.

“Hey, Lucky, looking good!” Tony hoped noticing wouldn’t make it worse, but Lucky – Tony had grown tired of calling him Clint – just munched his apple while sitting on a motorcycle. If Tony made a sharp move, Lucky would be gone up that ladder in a blink, but they were making progress. Also, Lucky wore the clothes provided and usually didn’t piss in the corner.

Soon, he was going to have to see the vet about his arm, and Tony dreaded that day. There was a rap on the glass, and Tony jumped. Lucky fled over and up into his nest, and Jarvis said, “Mr. Stane is demanding admittance.”

“Go dark wherever there are suit components.” Tony strolled to the door with a forced smile on his face. “Hey, Obadiah.”

Stane shouldered his way inside. “I thought we agreed that you’d lay low. Give me a chance.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “That was a Board Meeting, and I usually attend those.”

“Not after that stunt you pulled and not after the media painted you as a crazy pet lady.” Stane was far too close, but Tony refused to back up. This was his shop.

“Miss Potts is asking for you both upstairs,” Jarvis said.

“Let’s include her in this conversation.” Tony edged closer, hand still on the door.

“But I want to meet your pet.” Stane’s greedy eyes swept the shop. “And see your new project.”

“There is no new project. I’m just tinkering with the cars.” Tony shrugged. “Hard to focus lately. And Lucky hates everyone.”

“I bet he’d be great in the ring.” Stane might’ve stepped around Tony but Jarvis killed all the lights, leaving the stairs illuminated. Tony was giving Jarvis a raise. Stane grunted. “Let me know when he’s ready. I’ll bet on him.”

“That’ll be never.” Tony shut the door firmly behind him, swiping away the password so only his thumbprint could open the door. “Jarvis, see that Dummy stays out of trouble.”

“I will give it the old college try, as they say.”

“I brought New York pizza,” Stane said.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Tony smiled, but he wasn’t feeling it. He sat on the sofa, ate the pizza, and didn’t really listen to them complain about him and his reckless actions. The boots were ready. Tomorrow, he’d run a few flight tests, and calculations spun through his brain.

“Tony! Are you listening? I need you to stay away from Stark Industries until the dust settles.” Stane grinned, but it never reached his eyes. “Play with your pets, fix your cars, and no interviews.”

“The Board was glad he had a new project to help with his PTSD,” Pepper said. “It’s a step in the right direction.”  


Tony seized on that. “Speaking of pets, I bet Lucky is hungry.” He grabbed up the pizza box and started for the stairs. “You two know where the door is!”

“I should see your pet before I go!” Stane shouted.

“Goodbye, Obie!” Tony thumbed his way inside his shop and leaned back against the door, trying to breathe. A few lights clicked on, and standing close was Lucky. Lucky tilted his head, pointed his finger at Tony, and made an OK sign with his hand. Somehow it seemed like more of a question than a statement. Tony nodded, put the pizza on the coffee table, and slumped down to put his face in his hands. He figured Lucky would grab the box and high tail it up to his nest, but Tony felt the other end of the sofa depress. “You see, Lucky,” and he flipped open the pizza box, “I used to think Obadiah was a good guy. Hell, a great guy, looking out for my interests. Now, I look in his eyes and I wonder. Yinsen, now that was a good man, but Obadiah…”

The sound of munching was loud. Tony eased up and got them both a beer, popping off the tops. He sat down in the same spot and put the beers near the pizza. “He organized that demonstration, insisted I go, and made sure I was there.”

Lucky slowly reached for another piece, like his hand would be slapped, and Tony pointed at the beers. “Drink up. That’s a quality beer.”

“Sir, Mr. Barton is hearing impaired. If you’ll allow me.” Jarvis projected an image right above the coffee table of a hand reaching for a beer. He followed that with the word ‘Clint.’ And Lucky was sucking on a beer one second later, glee on his face.

“It’s really hard to think of him as Clint.” Tony sighed. “Did we have a meeting about Lucky’s abilities and I missed it?”

“We had it scheduled for tomorrow, but I have finished all the testing, if you’d like to hear the results now.”

Tony took a large drink of beer. “I’m ready.”

“Mr. Barton is not completely deaf, but the percentages are high enough to warrant hearing aids. His reading level is fifth grade. His math level is simply not testable because he refuses to cooperate. He can write simple sentences but grows frustrated quickly. He has uncanny aim, incredible flexibility, excellent upper body strength, and a wicked sense of humor.”

“Wait. What?” Tony gave Lucky the side-eye. “That time he hit me with a hot dog?”

“A complete act. He was never in any danger of falling.”

“You little shit.” Tony laughed. “Play it again, Jarvis.”

Jarvis put the entire incident on the screen, and Tony watched Lucky’s reaction to it. Lucky ducked his head and then grinned at him. Tony rolled his eyes and then laughed. “Can he read lips?”

“All indications are that he can.”

“You are a troublemaker,” Tony said. “I like it.”

Lucky laughed. The first real sound he’d made other than gasping and breathing hard. Tony laughed with him. “Jarvis, why doesn’t he talk? All pets talk, right?”

“A small percentage of pets have their vocal cords cut, but Mr. Barton hasn’t. I believe since he can’t hear himself, he chooses not to speak.”

“Makes sense.” Tony took a long pull on his beer. “Barton, where the hell have you been hiding?”

“There are few places left in our society that aren’t regularly scanned, and those societies are close knit.” Jarvis paused and the screen shifted to series of pictures. Each picture was of the circus.

“How many are left?”

“Six that travel North America.”

Tony sipped his beer and glanced at his pet. No, Clint Barton was nobody’s pet. Clint tore his eyes away from the screen and then looked at him without a trace of fear in his eyes. Tony said, “Circus brat, huh?”

With a small smirk, Clint put the bottle on his head where he balanced it easily while he ate the last piece of pizza. Tony found himself smiling. “Jarvis, what the hell are we going to do with him?”

“And why was he running the streets of Malibu?”

The pictures of the circus came to a stop, and Clint tapped the pizza box several times. Tony leaned forward and said, “What?”

Clint made the signs for charades, and Tony nodded. “First word.”

Spreading his arms wide, Clint flew around the coffee table, coming to rest back on the sofa.

“Chicken.”

Clint stuck his tongue out at him.

“Eagle?”

Clint put his fingers close together.

“Hawk,” Tony said and got a nod. Clint held up two fingers and pointed at his eye. Tony groaned. “Too easy. Hawkeye, like in the book, or the TV show.”

Clint smiled, stood, and took an elaborate bow. Tony got it. “Your nickname is Hawkeye, not Lucky.”

Clint nodded and finished his beer. Jarvis flashed a picture on the screen, and Tony stared at the bedazzled purple costume, mask and all, and the confident, young man holding a bow. “Hawkeye, World’s Greatest Marksman, Carson Circus.” He paused, not sure what to say first. “Don’t they miss you?”

Hawkeye shrugged and drained his beer. Jarvis said, “There is no record of a Hawkeye headlining at that circus for the last three years.”

“So…” Tony wondered what Hawkeye had been up to since then, and why he’d been hit by a car. He wandered to the fridge and got them two more beers. After setting them down, he paced, tapping his arc reactor. “Hawkeye, are you hiding here?”

There was a long pause, and then as he took another beer, Hawkeye nodded. Tony sat down, put the other beer against his forehead, and breathed. “Pepper can never know any of this.” He’d been trying to do something right, and he’d probably brought some sort of assassin into his home. He had no illusions about what a guy with that kind of skills would make money doing. Chances were very good that when Hawkeye was healed, he’d vanish back into the underworld.

Tony faced him squarely, to make sure his lips were visible. “Want me to take the chip out?”

Eyes wide, Hawkeye stared at him for the longest time. Slowly, he nodded. “Please,” he whispered.

“Jarvis, guide me through this,” Tony said, putting his beer down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm struggling with tags for this weird story. Any suggestions would be appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Every day after that, Tony expected Hawkeye to be gone when he got to the shop. Of course, some nights he slept on the sofa, but even then, finding Hawkeye still there was a surprise. The boots worked, and now Tony threw himself into working on the gauntlets. They had to be perfect, or he’d burn his hands off.

At some point, Tony didn’t even know when, Hawkeye started handing him tools, or ice packs, or taking the fire extinguisher from Dummy. Tony didn’t like being handed things, but, somehow, it was different with Hawkeye.

The hearing aids arrived at some point – Tony wasn’t sure when – and he let Jarvis handle it. They must’ve worked because Hawkeye winced when Tony cranked the music now.

“Tony, I thought you weren’t making weapons anymore!”

“Not a weapon,” Tony said to her, right before he flew back into a wall. Hawkeye helped him up and got him disentangled from the frame of the gauntlet. “Shit,” he mumbled. Dummy arrived with another ice pack - the smartass. Tony took it, put it on his shoulder, and followed Pepper upstairs.

“Everyone is pestering me for an interview,” Pepper said, sitting on the large sofa under the window. There was a pile of paperwork in front of her on the coffee table. “Obadiah said no, but now they’re reporting that you’re some kind of hermit with a fixation on pets.”

“Could be worse.” Tony found she’d put a cup of coffee on the table for him, and he picked it up to sip. Hawkeye slowly went to the windows and stood, transfixed. Tony sat down. “Have you heard from Rhodey? I haven’t.”

“No.” Pepper watched Hawkeye. “Shouldn’t he be downstairs? Confined?”

“He can go wherever he wants. He knows that.” Tony did get the feeling this was Hawkeye’s first trip out of the shop. “What’s the word on the injunction?”

Pepper shrugged. “I haven’t heard a whisper. Of course, an invention to take to the Board would make everyone happy, especially stockholders.”

“All I’ve done is tinker with a few parts because I’m bored.” Tony was sticking with that story until he actually had a suit that could fly. He adjusted the ice bag and sighed. “They’re not supposed to throw me across the room.”

The laughter from Hawkeye made Pepper flinch. She picked up a file and put it closer to him. “At some point, the Board is going to need something from you to justify the pet sanctuary expenditures.”

“Jarvis?”

“Miss Potts, the first sanctuary is already turning a profit while helping taxpayers by lowering the costs associated with a feral pet population.” Jarvis sounded smug. “I am confident the second one will be in the black by the third quarter.”

Her eyebrows stayed up. “I would never argue with Jarvis.”

“Smart lady,” Hawkeye said. He wandered away into the house. “Jarvis, where’s the pool?”

Tony laughed softly. “Hopefully, he’ll find a swimsuit. Jarvis?”

“I’ll direct him that way, but there are no guarantees.”

Pepper sighed. “Tony, you pamper him.”

“I’m sure it’s good for my mental health.” Tony picked up the file and started reading. They worked through the pile, and he signed where necessary to make her happy.

“On last thing, Agent Coulson from one of the alphabet agencies wants to interview you.” She gathered all the files with a smile. “He’s very insistent.”

“Too bad.” Tony didn’t have time for that. He wanted to track down Rhodey before he went any further on this project. Rhodey might have some good ideas. “Want to go swimming?” He smirked at her.

“Not today.” She got to her feet and headed for her office. He finished his coffee before strolling to pool side to collapse in the sun. Hawkeye was swimming like a dolphin - a naked dolphin with a cast on his arm. It was waterproof, but Tony had no doubt it’d be gone by the end of the day. Hawkeye had already taken out all his stitches with fingernail clippers. Tony was still sorry Jarvis had told him about it.

Hawkeye splashed him with water, jolting him upright. “Fuck you, bird!”

********

“Happy wants me to inform you that the car is ready,” Jarvis said.

Nodding, Tony went to his closet to grab his jacket. He nearly screamed when Hawkeye handed him the black leather one. “What the hell? Are you my valet now? I bought you a lot of really nice toys so you’d stay in the shop!”

Hawkeye grinned. “I think you need backup today.”

“Is that why you’re in your Sunday best?” Tony looked Hawkeye up and down. “Are those actual shoes?”

“Shut it.” Hawkeye tugged at his purple T-shirt. “I need a collar.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you talking? Why aren’t you grunting and throwing things at me like usual?” Tony was sure he needed more coffee in his veins.

“Air Force bases require pets to be collared.” Hawkeye narrowed his eyes at him. “I was sure you’d have a box of kinky sex toys in here, but so far, no luck.”

“How do you know that?” Tony blinked at him. “Never mind. Kinky toys? God, I hate you.” He reached back, pushed on the light switch plate, and a rack of clothes rotated around to reveal his kinky sex toys. “Go crazy.”

“You’ve finally surprised me.” Hawkeye scanned everything, even opening a few drawers. “This one. And this. But if you tug, I’ll bite you.”

Tony rubbed his face. “Black leather will go with the purple, and match my jacket.” He waved his hand at him. “Put it on yourself. I’m not touching your neck. You might have a flashback and kill me.”

“Might.” Hawkeye used the mirror to buckle it on, leaving it loose. He snapped on the leash and looked himself up and down. “Could be worse.”

“You look lovely. Now, why are you going again?” Tony bitched at him all the way to the limo and while getting inside, but he could see Hawkeye had made up his mind. Tony didn’t need backup, not ever, and he had Happy, but whatever. Hawkeye handed him a large cup of coffee, and Tony settled back to enjoy it. “I still hate you.”

“Good.”

Happy laughed.

They received an escort as far as the hanger. Happy stayed with the car, and Tony would never admit that having Hawkeye trailing behind him made him feel safer. The leash looped around his wrist was annoying, but the guard had insisted. Hawkeye hadn’t said a word, keeping close and somehow managing to look dangerous. They stepped inside, and Tony stopped to watch.

Rhodey was giving one of his usual ‘manpower is the best power’ speeches to a group of pilots, and Tony listened long enough to take an opportunity to lighten things up.

“Don’t say that, Tony. They’ll believe you.” Rhodey dismissed them. “Good to see you walking around.”

“I’m doing a little better than that.” Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. “You?”

“Good. Quiet around here lately.” Rhodey grinned. “Still can’t believe you turned into a crazy pet lady.” He made a vague gesture at Hawkeye, who crossed his arms.

“It’s just a cover for what I’m working on. Something big, and I could use your help.” Tony stepped closer, noticing that Hawkeye was right at his back.

“Oh, boy, you are about to make a lot of people around here happy!” Rhodey grinned and did a little celebration dance.

“It’s not for the military.” Tony heard the anger in his voice and tried to tone it down. “I’m done with that, but I need--”

“What you need is to get your head on straight!” Rhodey drew himself up, clearly pissed. “You make weapons that help us stay safe!”

“Not anymore, and I don’t think guns, or missiles, ever solve problems. They’re for killing.” Tony wished he’d never come. This had been a mistake. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend, and as your friend, I’m telling you to get some help. Stop wasting your time on stupid animals and follow in your father’s footsteps. It’s what he wanted.”

The words slapped Tony across the face. He was having a hard time thinking of what to say next, and that never happened.

“So, come find me when you figure it out.” Rhodey marched away without a look back, and Tony felt like he’d been kicked in the balls. He couldn’t even keep the fake smile on his face.

“You sure he’s your friend? Kind of a dick.” Hawkeye used the leash to start steering Tony back towards the car. “He clearly has a hard-on for your weapons.”

“Clearly.” Tony felt like the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. Everything in his life felt like a lie, and no one said or did things that made any sense. The car seemed like a haven, and he managed a deep breath.

“How’d it go?” Happy asked.

“Don’t ask,” Hawkeye muttered.

Tony pressed the ice pack Hawkeye handed him to his forehead without thinking about it. The cold helped him not panic. “He was joking. He’ll stop by when he gets a chance, and it’ll be great.”

Hawkeye grunted and put a bottle of water in Tony’s other hand. Tony drank half before handing it back to him. “Fill it with scotch.”

“There isn’t any.”

“Happy, you’re so fired!”

“Sorry, boss.”

“We should stop for cheeseburgers.” Hawkeye rummaged loudly in the mini-fridge. “And milkshakes.” He sat back, holding a Coke. “Hey, can I drive?”

“No,” Happy said. “Burgers, boss?”

“Sure.” Tony put his head back and shut his eyes. He felt horrible, on the inside. This was why he built robots. They didn’t pull this kind of crap. “We’ve been friends since MIT. I was a stupid kid. He kept me out of trouble, usually. Now I don’t want to build weapons that kill people, and he tells me to fuck off. What just happened?”

“You said you don’t want to build weapons. He said you should because something something about your dad. Honestly, I was watching his hands so he didn’t hit you.” Hawkeye snorted. “I didn’t really get it either. Did you have some sort of weapons for friendship pact with him?”

“I guess I did.” Tony moved the ice pack to the back of his neck. “Happy, did you ever think Rhodey was just using me?”

“He’s the Stark liaison to the military,” Happy said. “Obadiah gives him a lot of things, like money, women, you know, the usual, greasing the palms.”

Tony hadn’t known. He probably should’ve guessed. “Hawkeye, Happy, if the military catches wind of my new project, they’ll try to take it.”

“Not while I’m still breathing,” Hawkeye said.

“Yeah, me too.”

********

The cheeseburger eating contest seemed like a great idea, especially after Hawkeye found a bottle of Jack Daniels under the side table. They cranked up the AC/DC, Hawkeye took out his hearing aids, and Tony was fine. He was. The booze made sure of it.

By the time Happy pulled up to the front door, Tony was ready to hit the shop. He had interfaces to design. Hawkeye belched and slumped against him. “I win,” he mumbled.

Tony laughed, swung open the door, and was shocked to find the leash still attached to his wrist. He stumbled back, nearly pulled his arm out of its socket, and Hawkeye tumbled out of the limo. 

“Shit,” Tony said, staring down at him helplessly.

“I had no idea my day would be so entertaining.”

“Jarvis! There is riff-raff on my front stoop!” Tony yelled, finding he still had a glass of whiskey in one hand. “Happy!”

“Gotta get the limo restocked!” Happy drove away, and Hawkeye waved a bag of burgers after him before collapsing back down with his face mushed into the bag.

“Agent Coulson, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”

“Are you dead?” Tony bellowed down at Hawkeye, accidentally tugging on the leash again. Hawkeye was going to bite him for sure. He glanced up at Coulson. “He’s deaf. And possibly dead.”

“He appears to be breathing.” Coulson stuck his hands in his pockets as if there was no way he was touching either of them. “We need to talk.”

Draining his glass, Tony looked for somewhere to put it, finding only cement and grass. “I hope he’s dead, or he’s going to bite me.” He shuffled a few steps toward the front door. “Jarvis!”

“The recent events in Afghanistan lead us to believe that you’re on the brink of a technological breakthrough. Shield wants to help.”

“Brink? I don’t brink anything!” Tony had never been so insulted. “I am far past the brink! Now get off my lawn before I have Pepper brandish a shoe at you.”

“A terrifying threat.”

Hawkeye started crawling for the front door, the bag of burgers in his teeth, and Tony bumbled after him. “This leash was a horrible idea. It wasn’t even my bad idea!” He grabbed Hawkeye by the back of the jeans. “Wait!” But Hawkeye continued to plod forward. “This deaf thing is very inconvenient!”

“I hate Nick Fury,” Coulson said, stepping around them and opening the door. Hawkeye made it inside and then curled up on the marble around the burgers. Tony finally managed to get the damn leash off his wrist, slamming the door behind him. If Coulson was hit in the face, it wasn’t Tony’s fault.

“Jarvis! You are no help at all!”

“I’m distraught, sir.”

“Tony, are you drunk again?” Pepper asked, coming out of her office.

“Later, dude,” Hawkeye was up and running, doing a front flip down the stairs and vanishing into the shop.

“What the hell just happened?” Tony set his glass on a side table and stared down at the abandoned leash and collar, sprawled on the floor. He’d been played. He laughed. “Hi, Pepper. Don’t open the door. There’s an agent of some sort out there.”

“Oh, God.” She went right to the door, and Tony took a page out of Hawkeye’s plan book, running for the shop without looking back. He heard something about an ice pack, but he was busy, so busy.


	4. Chapter 4

“For lack of a better option, Dummy is on fire prevention.” Tony adjusted the right gauntlet for the fifth time. “I would have a better option if Hawkeye were here, but since he ran away to parts unknown, I’m probably going to die. You, you’re on video.”

Having no desire to hit the ceiling again, ever, Tony started at a very low percentage of power, and it was easily the hardest thing he’d ever done. He had to start working on his core. “Not the cars!” He drifted, flew a little, and spun, adjusting and searching for perfect results. When he safely landed, he felt like he’d run a marathon.

“Yeah, I can fly.”

By the time he’d gotten all the equipment off his arms and legs, he’d made up his mind to build some robots to do it for him. “Jarvis, we’re going to need some production robots.”

“For that large of an expenditure, your account will be red-flagged, and Mr. Stane will be informed.”

Tony didn’t want that, not at all. “How about some of the construction bots in storage here in California? We always buy a few extra.”

There was a slight delay. “I believe I can have them routed here while drawing minimal attention.” Jarvis was a genius. “Do you intend to paint your suit, sir?”

“Of course.” Tony saw where this was going. “We need to reboot the shop.” He grinned, unable to stop himself. “We’ll need blueprints, and a jackhammer.”

“And perhaps an upgrade to the electrical.”

Tony didn’t lose his grin until he face-planted onto the sofa, exhausted in a good way. On these nights, or days, he slept heavily, no dreams to wake him screaming. “You think he’s okay, Jay?”

“If you’re referring to Mr. Barton, I believe he’s like the proverbial cat. He’ll always land on his feet.”

That sounded right. Tony tucked the pillow under his head, and Jarvis dimmed the lights. “I don’t miss him.”

“Of course not.”

“He wasn’t a real therapy pet.” Tony shut his eyes. “He wasn’t even a pet.”

“He certainly wasn’t.”

His breaths grew slower, and he drifted, designing the armor bots in his head.

_“Then you better make it a good week, huh?”_

_Tony hammered and hammered, until his arm shook with muscle strain and sweat poured from his face, sizzling when it hit the metal. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t good enough. He had to keep trying._

_“That better be a weapon,” Rhodey said, arms crossed, scowling._

_“It is. I promise.” Tony watched as Stane put a live coal in Yinsen’s mouth, and he pounded metal through the screaming. “I’m working! I’m working! Stop! Stop!”_

_Gunfire. So many guns, and he couldn’t breathe with all the water in his mouth._

Jolting up, not sure where he was, he ran, and when he found a ladder, he went up and hid in a dark place. He trembled, trying to breathe and not cry, and when someone knelt in front of him, he put his head on his knees and wrapped his arms tighter to hide the light from his mangled chest. “I’m sorry. I always fail. Always.”

“No, man. You don’t.” Whoever it was crawled in the hidey hole and cuddled right up against him. “Breathe. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Tony shook his head. “No. No. No one cares.”

“I do.” Whoever the idiot was, he wrapped Tony tight. “Now, breathe, or I’m pushing you off.”

It seemed easier just to breathe, and it wasn’t long before Tony felt more like bitching and less like crying. “God damn it. Why does my brain torture me?”

“Um, because you were tortured? Why does Pepper and Rhodey, even Stane, expect you to get through the aftershocks without any help?” The voice sounded familiar. “No, I’m not talking about a therapist. I’m talking about friends.”

“People like my money, not me, even my pet ran away.” Tony took a long, shuddering breath and let it out slow. “I should get back to work.”

A small light clicked on, and Hawkeye hugged him. “I needed to get my stash. I didn’t run away. Moron. And no, you’ve had enough work for a while.”

“Hawkeye?” Tony blinked several times and scrubbed the gunk out of his eyes. He was nose-to-nose with Hawkeye, and their bodies were entwined. “Did you want sex?”

“I worry about you, Stark. It’s always money or sex, or both together.” Hawkeye got to his feet and took Tony with him to an elevated platform. The bedding was sinful, silks and satins, and Tony curled down into the pile. Hawkeye groaned. “No boots!”

Tony’s boots were yanked off, and he found a fluffy pillow to wrap himself around. “Jarvis pampers you.”

“And you. Now, sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

That was enough to send Tony back to sleep.

******** 

“Where the fuck am I?” Tony sat bolt upright, brow furrowed in confusion and feet kicking bedding away from him. Light poured in through the big windows. “That’s my ocean.”

“I guess you’re awake,” Hawkeye drawled, bumping into Tony. “Never been up here? View’s great.”

Tony looked at Hawkeye, looked away, and then back. “Of course, it is. I designed it. Where did you come from?”

“My mom.” Hawkeye stretched, laughing at his own joke. “Had to get my bow, man.”

“Happy could’ve driven you.” Tony sniffed, sure he might be angry. “I figured you were dead on the highway. Roadkill.”

Hawkeye sighed and shoved Tony with his foot. “Did it work?”

“I flew like you wouldn’t believe.” Tony couldn’t help but grin, spinning on the bed to face him. “The power constraints were non-existent. I could potentially fly to the moon.”

“That’s stupid.” Hawkeye laced his hands behind his head. “No beer on the moon. Or hotdogs.” He suddenly grinned, eyes dancing. “I was scanned.”

“Since you’re here, I know the outcome.” Tony lost his breath for a moment. He’d been sure he’d gotten the tracker out, but there could’ve been trace residue, or something. “Were you worried?”

“Jarvis never screws up.” Hawkeye sat up and put his hand on Tony’s forearm. “I owe you my life.”

“Which is not worth much of anything,” Tony sniped, rolling his eyes. He ducked his face away, embarrassed and began a quick inventory. “You have a fridge up here?”

“Everything but a toilet.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Tony spotted a large black duffle. He pointed. “Can I poke through your stash?”

Hawkeye moved, grabbing it up and putting it on the bed between them. “They were on my trail, so I ditched it at a construction site. Trickshot broke my arm and threw me into traffic. I figured I was dead.”

Tony was a little taken back by the amount of anger that surged through him. “Is he dead? I have access to missiles. Who does that?”

It was Hawkeye’s turn to duck away. “Someone tried to kill you too, remember? Lots of bad people in the world, and after the circus kicked me out, I didn’t have many choices.”

“Jarvis, find this Trickshot character.” Tony would find a way to inflict pain on him. Hawkeye unzipped the bag and pulled out a bow. He smoothed his hands over it, and Tony understood why Hawkeye had gone to get it. Tony carefully didn’t touch it. “A good weapon?”

“The best.” Hawkeye put it aside with exaggerated care and dug in the bag. He pulled out gun after gun after gun, and then a dozen passports and a brick of cash. “You want the money?”

“Why?” Tony picked up a nine millimeter handgun, made sure it was unloaded and fiddled with it. “Not the best.” He field-stripped it quickly, examining the parts. “Needs cleaning.” He glanced up to see Hawkeye giving him a look. “What? I build weapons.”

“Missiles aren’t guns.”

Tony moved on to the Glock and reduced it to parts with no trouble. “This is a fairly decent weapon.” He took up the last one. “Long barrel forty-five. Good stopping power.” His hands moved automatically. “Terrible condition. Did you drop it in a gutter?”

“Probably.” Hawkeye flipped through the passports, no expression on his face at all. “Now, you know what I’ve been doing. I’ll leave, if you want.”

Giving him a side-eye, Tony rooted in the bag for more weapons but only found a sheathed knife. He tossed it on the bed. “I knew about ten minutes after I brought you home, and that act you pulled with Agent Coulson was a dead giveaway.”

Hawkeye buried his face in his hands. “That man,” he whispered. “Why keep me?”

With one finger, Tony poked him in the side of the leg. “Why didn’t you kill me when you came bolting out of that nasty crate? Don’t pretend you couldn’t have.”

They shrugged at each other. “When you can’t walk any further,” Hawkeye said.

“Find someone to carry you,” Tony finished. He shoved all the gun parts back in the bag. “These suck. You want a nice gun? I’ll get you one from upstairs.” He got to his feet and went over to stare at the ocean. He was glad Hawkeye was home, but he’d never say it. “Want me to make you a few arrows?”

“Will they explode?” Hawkeye asked immediately.

Tony laughed, turning back to him. “You bet. What’re you gonna do with the passports?”

“Ditch ‘em.” Hawkeye tossed them in the bag as well. “I’m done with that life. They may kill me, but I’m not going back.”

“We’re idiots.” Tony felt the same damn way. It was unsettling. He sat on the edge of the nest and started putting on his boots. All this talk had made him need coffee even more than usual, but he had one more question. “You never asked about this.” He tapped his chest piece where it glowed under his T-shirt.

“Tony, you talk all the damn time. Your brain never shuts up about it.” Hawkeye eased from the bed and dropped off the side of the platform. Tony reached out a hand, panicked, and then peeked over the edge. Hawkeye was headed for the bathroom.

“Damn circus monkey.” Tony took one last look around, threw the duffle over the side, and vowed to explain to Hawkeye about the trash later. He didn’t remember climbing the ladder last night, but he could still taste the terror in his mouth and feel the sweat on his body. He scooted down the ladder with no trouble and came face-to-face with Pepper. “Hey, Pep.”

“You slept with him?” Pepper sounded and looked aghast.

Telling the truth wasn’t possible. “Just checking he hadn’t dragged any tools up there.” He strode to the fridge and got a bottle of juice with one hand while starting the coffee pot with the other. “I need a shower.”

“You really do.” Pepper smiled now, handing him a small, wrapped box. “For you, and we have a list of appointments to go over.”

After last night, he was unable to reach for it. He wanted to, but his hands wouldn’t do it. She raised her eyebrows and put it on his desk. He forced his best smile. “Thank you, Miss Potts. I’ll meet you in the living room, after I clean up.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” She pulled open the door, and he took his juice to his shower.


	5. Chapter 5

Hawkeye was sitting at the kitchen table when Tony went to raid the fridge. The table was full of breakfast, and his chef was beaming. Tony slumped. He’d been hoping to grab a yogurt and go.

“Gotta eat. If we’re gonna tear the place apart,” Hawkeye said around a mouthful of pancakes.

“Talk after you swallow.” Tony slid onto a chair and glared at him. “Heathen.”

“Fancy pants.” Hawkeye finished his plate before Tony had eaten his eggs. The chef pounced and slid a full plate of fresh French toast in front of him. Hawkeye gave him a high five. “This pet fell in the cream.”

That was the most ridiculous thing Tony had ever heard. “I’m thinking my chef is bored is all.”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

Tony knew what that meant. Pepper would be hiring a new chef soon. Giving Hawkeye a hard once-over, Tony realized the man was seriously underweight. “Chef, fatten Hawkeye up, would you? He’s accustomed to eating from dumpsters.”

“Yeah, I wish. Most places lock them.” Hawkeye didn’t bat an eyelash at what could’ve been an insult. “I got scanned at McDonald’s, so I ditched out the back. Nerves, I guess.”

“You haven’t eaten in… Jarvis, how long was he gone?”

“Five days, sir.”

Tony remembered the brick of bills, sitting on Hawkeye’s bed. “You had cash.”

“All hundreds. Do I look like a guy who would have a hundred-dollar bill?” Hawkeye really didn’t, not in his ripped jeans and T-shirt. “I swiped an apple or two off a vendor, scored a hot dog that one day. I survived.”

Chef’s mouth hung open. “Sir, I shall feed him. You have my word.”

“I’ve never been fat. Might be fun.” Hawkeye pointed at Tony’s plate. “You gonna eat that?”

“Back off, circus clown.” Tony curled his arm around his plate. He ate most of it, enjoyed his coffee, and wished Pepper would join them. She waited until he was finished, and he obediently went to confer with her out in the front room. “Hawkeye, get the cars and bikes moved out of the shop. Jarvis will tell you where.”

“Really?” Hawkeye bounced a little on his toes. “I may take the long way.”

Tony waved his hand at him to make him disappear. “Hi, Pepper.”

“Are you getting ready to re-model? Again?”

“Thought it might be fun.” He grinned, pretty sure it annoyed her. “I’m having some robots sent over from storage. I just want to tinker, nothing new or exciting.”

“Every day, Obie calls about a new invention.” Pepper huffed. “I wish you’d give him something.”

“I would if I could.” Tony wouldn’t, but that was an argument for another day. “Jarvis, send a maid to clean the Hawk’s nest while he’s distracted. It smells like old sandwiches up there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I honestly thought you’d re-home him.” Pepper didn’t make eye contact, flipping through a pile of actual papers.

Tony got up and strolled to the window to stare out at the ocean. “According to Jarvis, my panic attacks are down by almost half since he started living here. I’d be an idiot to do that.”

“I had no idea.”

He tapped the glass and started scrolling through his email, deleting the vast majority of them.  For some reason, he didn’t like her tone. “If he keeps up the good work, he may find himself in my will.” He saw her shocked face in the reflection of the glass, but it was a good idea. Hawkeye would need something, if the next attempt on Tony’s life was successful. He was going to make it damn hard for them, so there was a lot to get organized before the new builder bots arrived.

“Are you friends with Agent Coulson?”

“He and I have found common ground in that we both have impossible bosses.” She smirked a little at him.

“Good.” He would need that contact when Jarvis found Trickshot.

“I thought I called this meeting,” Pepper said, amusement in her voice.

Laughing, he turned to her. “You’ll lose me to the shop soon enough. Have we changed Jarvis’ home code lately?” He was fairly sure Obie had the code, and that was a bad idea. Call him paranoid. She shook her head, and he went through the process to install a new one, changing it to a sixteen alpha-numeric password that was random.

“What will it be?”

“Pepper loves Tony,” he said, teasing and seeing she didn’t mind. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. Jarvis, initiate.”

“New password confirmed.”

“I need more coffee.” Tony went that way. “Did you eat, Pepper? Chef made a feast.”

She smiled and came over to join him. “I could eat a pancake.”

********

“Not there! There!” Tony pointed, saw Hawkeye’s confusion, and went over to yank on his ear. “There!”

“Okay! You big bully!” Hawkeye dragged the crate to the desired location. “I’m not deaf, you know!”

“Biggest joke ever.” Tony knew something would hit him in the head soon, and sure enough, a piece of Styrofoam came his way, bonking him in the forehead. “I’m making a helmet to protect myself from you!”

“Like that’d work.” Hawkeye hopped up on the crate. He struck a heroic pose and shot a pretend arrow. “Bullseye! Again!”

“Sir, Colonel Rhodes is asking for admittance.”

Tony might’ve panicked for a second. He exchanged a look with Hawkeye. “You will not run away!”

“Bye!” Hawkeye had somehow stacked the crates so he could make it up to his nest with one big jump. Tony rubbed his face and went to the door. Jarvis clicked it open, and Rhodey marched inside.

“Why is the music so loud?” Rhodey yelled.

“Why not?” Tony turned it off with a quick hand motion. “Hi, pumpkin.”

“Did your pet just jump about six feet in the air?”

“Probably.” Tony strolled to the fridge and got a beer. “Want?”

“Nah. Still technically on duty. Stane called and wanted me to check on you.” Rhodey stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, eyes darting all over the shop. “Redecorating?”

“Hang on.” Tony got an extra beer. He went to the bottom of the platform and threw it straight up. Hawkeye snatched it out of the air before disappearing back into his nest. Tony turned and laughed at Rhodey’s wide-eyed expression. “Just basic pet maintenance.”

“I think that’s illegal in Texas.” Rhodey rolled his eyes, going to a crate and staring at it. “You said you were working on something big?”

Tony sighed and slumped down on the crate. He took a long swig. “Didn’t pan out the way I thought it would. That’s the hell of genius. I get these ideas, and sometimes, they blow up in my face, literally. It blew me across the shop. Ask Pepper. So many ice packs. Dummy laughed for weeks.”

“You told me you never fail.” Rhodey stared up at the nest. “Is that normal for a pet?”

“Nothing he does is normal.” Tony didn’t even look. “So, this idea, I’m adapting it for racing cars. That’s why the garage is a disaster. Plug in what’s basically a modified repulsor unit and I guarantee you will shit your pants at how fast your car goes. Of course, I’ve got to build a car that can withstand the stress of the acceleration, but that’s the easy part.”

Rhodey nodded. “The Army could use that.” He grinned. “Always a military application.”

“It does seem that way. Remember when I built a better helmet? And your bosses thought it was a waste of money?” Tony was still angry about that. “Sure, Pepper and I marketed them to Israel, but it was hurtful.”

“Only so much money in the budget.” Rhodey laughed, but it came off nervous. “Let’s go upstairs and talk.”

Tony shrugged and started moving that way. “Jarvis, tell Chef that Rhodey’s hungry. Chef’s been bored, platypus. Let him feed you, and maybe I won’t have to hire another chef this week.” He turned off the main lights with a snap of his fingers.

“Tony, he’s in the dark.”

“He’s deaf, not blind.” Tony held the door for Rhodey and made sure Hawkeye saw him hold up five fingers. Hawkeye would wait five minutes and then create a distraction of some sort. Maybe. Hawkeye was unpredictable.

Tony padded up the stairs, hating that he’d lied to his best friend, but right now, he had no idea who to trust. Everyone and everything felt off since Afghanistan, and Hawkeye seemed like the only one who understood. When an assassin was the voice of reason, his life was screwed up.

Rhodey protested the food but sat at the table, and Chef took over from there. Tony wavered between scotch and coffee and decided on coffee because it’d look more like he was in control of his life.

“So, you’re good?” Tony fiddled with the sugar, needing to fill the silence.

“When did you sleep last?” Rhodey frowned, obviously looking him up and down.

Tony blinked, confused by the question. “Jarvis?”

“Sir slept for six hours last night on the sofa in his shop. He fell asleep during a Dr. Who marathon on Disney XD.”

Unable to help himself, Tony laughed. “Pretty sure I drew up plans for a Dalek.”

“You did, sir.”

“You look tired, worn.” Rhodey narrowed his eyes. “Drinking a lot?”

“I’m feeling pushed here. Did you come here to interrogate me on my lifestyle? Why not just talk to Pepper? She knows everything.” Tony crossed his legs, sipped his coffee, and was determined to keep his temper under control.

“We’re all worried about you.” Rhodey sounded patient and kind. “Pepper did mention you had a run-in with a federal agent.”

“He wants to de-brief on Afghanistan.” Tony accepted his plate from Chef with a nod. He stabbed a piece of fruit and ate it. “Been there. Done that.”

“All that’s classified, so don’t talk to anyone without Stane’s approval.” Rhodey started eating, and maybe, he didn’t realize how he sounded. He sounded like he worked for Stane, not the Air Force. “How is your… chest?”

Before Tony could open his mouth, Hawkeye came running by the table, snatched an apple, did a cartwheel and vanished in the direction of the pool. Two seconds later, the sound of a splash reached their ears. “I wish he’d wear a swimsuit,” Tony muttered, but he was grateful for the interruption.

Rhodey’s eyes were wide. “He’s not right in the head.”

“No kidding.” Tony stabbed another piece of fruit. “Who knew that physical abuse and being treated like an animal would be detrimental to a human’s state of mind?”

Raising his eyebrows, Rhodey swallowed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “What happened to make you a pet activist?”

“Really?” Tony felt like his lungs were folding in too close to his heart. Little beads of sweat popped out on his forehead, and he could almost taste sand in his mouth. Without even thinking, he got up and walked quickly to the swimming pool. Hawkeye glanced and then swam right to him. Tony couldn’t touch him, but he stood very close once Hawkeye pulled himself from the pool, dripping on Tony’s boots. “I don’t. I can’t…”

“Hey, put your head on my shoulder. Close your eyes. Breathe.” Tony didn’t want to do that, but Hawkeye pulled Tony’s head down and the smell of chlorine was like a breath of fresh air, and then it was easy to shut his eyes. Hawkeye whispered, “Feel the water? You’re not there. You’re here, where Dummy is downstairs fixing you a smoothie made with oil, and Jarvis lives to mock you.”

“He really does.” Tony breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth until his head felt normal-sized and the heat of the desert was gone from his skin. “I’m here.”

“You are. I dropped my apple in the pool, Chef is going to quit, and one of the maids likes to masturbate on your bed.”

“What the hell?” Tony looked into Clint’s eyes. “There’s an apple in my pool?”

“You would worry about that.” Clint grinned, stepping back. “Want to swim?”

“Not after being water-boarded. No.” Tony might never swim again. “Hey, did you unload those crates? I’m not paying you to run around naked and filthy up the pool.”

Hawkeye smirked, turned, and dove in the pool with a sassy flick of the hips. Tony took one more deep breath and headed back towards Rhodey, who was standing near the door. Rhodey licked his lips, eyes not meeting Tony’s, and Tony hated the shame that instantly made him blush.

The next words out of Rhodey’s mouth would be critical to their continued friendship. Tony wandered back to his fruit and took his plate to the sofa that looked out on the ocean. Shame was quickly pooling into anger. “How is Obie? I haven’t seen him since he told me not to show my face in public, or at Board meetings, or, really, anywhere.”

With only a bit of hesitation, Rhodey joined him, claiming the other end of the large sofa. “He’s fine. I am the liaison for Stark Industries, so we speak regularly.” He sounded stiff, unsure. “He wants what’s best for--.”

“The company,” Tony interrupted, furious now. “He doesn’t give a shit about me, and I’m starting to wonder about you. Did you pick me out at MIT? A kid so insecure that I was ripe to be manipulated? Being friends with a Stark always pays off, right?”

Rhodey twisted his lips and looked away. “There was never enough money to make up for the stupid shit you pulled.”

“Jarvis, how much did Rhodey make in kickbacks last year?” Tony knew the answer, but he wanted to twist the knife, not caring that he was burning a bridge.

“One point three million to an account in the Cayman’s,” Jarvis said. “There may be more accounts, but that one was the easiest to tie directly to Colonel Rhodes.”

“Tony, that’s not fair,” Rhodey said, getting to his feet in a rush.

Tony bounced up, furious and needing to yell. “You know what’s not fair? Having someone hold your face underwater while your chest is hooked to a fucking car battery!”

“I told you to ride with me!” Rhodey put his hands on his hips. “I would’ve kept you safe.”

“You were three cars back! Where the fuck did you go?” But Tony didn’t even want to know. He was tired of this bullshit. “Listen, we’re friends, whatever. Get out. Run to Obie, give your report, and count your money.”

“It’s not like that!”

“Really?” Tony didn’t believe him any longer. “You don’t want weapons? You don’t want the design for my chest piece?” His breath came hard, and he wanted to run to his shop and bury himself in work for days.

“It’s my job,” Rhodey whispered.

“Well, you’re fired, and yes, I have the power to do that.” Tony went to the front door and opened it for him. Rhodey stomped over to him to lie some more. Tony raised his hand to stop him. “Out.”

“I’ll be back,” Rhodey said, but Tony shut the door hard behind him. Fighting the urge to sink to the floor and rock back and forth, he simply put his forehead against the door.

“Hey, no banging your head, you need those brains.” Hawkeye put his hand on Tony’s shoulder and squeezed. “He’s your friend. He’ll be back.”

“I’m not as sure of that as you are.” Tony turned so Hawkeye’s hand slid away. Determination to do something right, for a change, replaced his anger. “Let’s go make robots and arrows.”

Hawkeye smiled, wide and honest. “You know you have to make me something to shoot at, right?”

“Oh, the military will be along.” Tony believed that, but he’d also have Jarvis order a big target.


	6. Chapter 6

Hours ago, Hawkeye had scooted up to his nest, complaining that his ears hurt – which was probably true – and that red was a stupid color – which was ridiculous. Tony kept working, needing the last builder bot installed so he could begin limited production. The suit had a lot of parts, and each one was custom built. Dummy and You could help, some, but it was time-consuming. However, the one thing Tony had was time. He’d made the mistake of checking email to discover that Obie was furious, no surprise, and insisting that Tony stop drinking and produce something of value to the military, even if it was nothing but bullet-proof underwear.

Tony had spent a good thirty minutes creating a virus to send to Obie through an email, which when opened would lock Obie out of every laptop or tablet he tried to access with his username and password. It would also grab Obie’s email list and send out infected emails to everyone with a dot gov address. It was childish, yes, but Tony felt better after he’d sent it.

And that got him to thinking. “Jarvis, we should find out what Obie’s been up to lately. Do we still have friends in the IT department?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Obie will give them his laptop to fix. Have it sent to me. I am the expert, after all.”

“I know Mr. Roberts will be happy to help.” Jarvis paused. “Miss Potts is in the building. Shall I alert her to the possibility of a computer virus?”

“Call her.” Tony spun his chair a little while he waited.

“What do you need, Tony?”

“The list is endless.” Tony smiled, able to picture her at her desk. “How’s my office?”

“Dusty.”

“Well, I have a horrible secretary.” Tony enjoyed her squawk of outrage. “I’m going to ask you to do something strange. Ready?”

“So, like every other day?”

“Sassy. Go in my office, turn on my computer, and mirror it to my computer here. Before you groan, I’ll walk you through it.” Tony forced himself to be patient as he guided her through the steps. When he was in, he said, “Jarvis, get there, stay in there. I want full access to everything.”

“The virus system you installed will be difficult to dismantle.”

“You like a challenge.” Tony turned his camera on and the one on his desk. Pepper’s face snapped into view, and she looked worried. “Thanks, Pepper, good job.”

“Why do I feel like I just participated in a hostile takeover of our own company?” Pepper frowned at him. Her gaze suddenly went up, and she said, “Obie?”

“Is he here? Where is that little prick?”

His fingers flew, shutting it all down – at least it looked that way – but leaving on the camera. Pepper swallowed, rising to her feet. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Tony asked me to dust off his computer, run a virus scan.”

“I bet he did!” Obie’s voice thundered. Tony guessed his virus was working perfectly.

“Yes, he did. Stop shouting.” Pepper had brass balls. “Tony’s at home. Where you asked him to stay. Rather rudely, I might add.”

There was a long silence, and Jarvis, very helpfully, pulled up the surveillance camera in Tony’s office and put the picture in a split screen. Obie had his hands on his hips. “I’m trying to keep this company afloat. After he tanked it!”

Pepper moved around to the front of the desk and looked like she might make a break for the door. “I’ll make sure to remind him when I see him tomorrow.”

“And tell him to stop wasting good money on pets that need a bullet,” Obie said.

“Of course.” Pepper had to sidle past him, and then she headed to her office.  She sank into her desk chair, and he could see her hands shaking.

“Jarvis, send Pepper a bouquet of those flowers she likes.”

“I’ll put in your standard order.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, resting his hand on his chest and tapping on it. In Afghanistan, he’d struggled to survive, but now he was home, he felt like he was in the fight of his life. And the hell of it was, he didn’t know how to win.

Since Jarvis was busy on two fronts, Tony poked at the internet, looking for news articles about the pet sanctuaries he was funding. It seemed as if the idea was gaining traction, and he sent a campaign contribution to the one senator who spoken out in favor of banning kill shelters. And that sent him down a path he’d meant to investigate sooner.

According to the state of California, Tony Stark owned Clint Barton, registered pet, and taking out the chip hadn’t changed that fact. It allowed Clint to pass through society without too much fear of being sent to a pound, but that was all. The laws were specific. Pets could inherit estates if there was an active guardian, approved in advance by a judge. It was ridiculous.

It’d be easier to register him as dead. Apparently, that only required an attending police report.

A noise for the nest pulled Tony’s attention away from the computer, and after a moment, he identified it as Hawkeye yelling about something. “Jarvis?”

“Mr. Barton seems to be having a nightmare.”  


Tony climbed the ladder to find Hawkeye thrashing in the bed, yelling about ‘stop’ and ‘please’ and it was terrible to watch. Grabbing him and shaking him seemed like a very bad idea. Tony didn’t want a punch in the face, but he had to do something.

“Fuck! No!” Hawkeye scrabbled on the sheet, and Tony couldn’t stand it. He took off his boots, put a pillow in front of his chest, just in case he took a punch there, and got on the bed. Hawkeye flailed at him, Tony ducked, grabbed him by the arm and held on for dear life. The kicking got worse for several minutes, and the screaming was bad, as well. “Fuck! Fuck! Get off me!”

“Clint! Wake up! Please! Before you kill me!” Tony shook him hard, not surprised when Hawkeye flipped and straddled him, fist up to strike. “Clint! Hawkeye! Lucky!” Something had to work, and then he remembered Clint was deaf and not in a good headspace to be reading lips. “I’m so fucked.”

It didn’t hurt for one long second, and then his face burst like a water balloon, sending pain everywhere. Thank fuck Hawkeye hadn’t punched Tony’s arc reactor, and right then he decided to build extra insulation into the suit in case that ever happened.

“Shit! Fuck! Damn!” Tony peeked out from behind a bloody hand.

Hawkeye seemed frozen in place, fist raised again, eyes wide. “Tony,” he whispered, “what the fuck? Never touch me during a flashback! Are you nuts?”

“Jury’s out.” Tony would have a go at him with the fire extinguisher next time. Hawkeye scrambled off him and bolted away. Tony lunged after him, managing to get hold of his purple T-shirt and drag him down to the floor. “Ow! Damn!” His face felt like it was crumbling, and Hawkeye struggled, only to collapse down flat when it became obvious Tony wasn’t giving up. When Tony was sure his lips were visible, he said, “No running away!”

“Tony, if someone finds out, I’ll be put down!” But Hawkeye wasn’t running, just lying in a heap. “Just, let me vanish.”

“No. I’m selfish, and I’m stubborn, and you’re a pain in the ass!” Tony slid off him to land too close to the edge. Hawkeye pulled him back. Tony held his face, needing an ice pack. “You hit fucking hard.”

“I can’t read your lips if your hands are in the way.” Hawkeye groaned his way to his feet. “Let’s get you an ice pack, and I need a shower.”

Tony bumbled his way down the ladder and might’ve fallen the last bit if Hawkeye hadn’t steadied him.  The ice pack made him yowl, and he slumped on the sofa. “I am so stupid.”

“I did prepare a briefing on PTSD. Would you like to read it now?” Jarvis had to put in his two cents worth.

“Oh, shut up.” Tony sulked.

********

“Tony!” Pepper darted her hand at his face, and Tony ducked, forced backwards. “What happened? You need a doctor!”

Tony was careful not to shake his head. He got another ice pack and glared at her with his one functioning eye. “No, and I’ve had worse lab accidents. I was on fire not long ago.”

“Dummy put you out, ya big whiner,” Hawkeye said, perched on the cabinet near the coffee machine as if he were guarding it.

She rounded on him. “Pets are supposed to be seen, not heard.”

“Too damn bad,” he said with a charming smile and a wink.

It was with a heavy heart that Tony realized a small portion of him loved Clint Barton. It was a very small part, but there it was, and it was time to do something about it. “Pepper, I called you down here because I need you to start the paperwork so I can adopt Clint.”

Two mouths dropped open. Pepper recovered first. “I’m sorry, but what?”

“You heard me.” Tony rolled his eyes. This was happening. It was the only way to make sure Clint was safe if Tony died. “It was that or have him declared dead, so we’re going with the adoption thing. Once it goes through, he can inherit my estate, at least the part you don’t get.”

“Dead sounds bad,” Hawkeye said. “But I don’t want this pile of junk!”

She silenced them both with her glare. “Tony, the media will have a field day.”

“Let’s not tell them.” Tony didn’t even want to think of all the yelling Obie would do. “I did the research. Pets who are legally adopted regain their status as American citizens. The only reason it never happens is because of the filing fee, which varies from state to state.”

“How much?” they asked at the same time.

“In California, it’s a million and a half, which is the lowest in the nation.” Tony adjusted his ice pack. “Jarvis reassures me that I have enough allowance to cover it.” He made sure to sound like a brat. “Okay, Mom?”

“I can tell you’ve made up your mind, so I’ll get started on it. Anything else, Mr. Stark?” The frost in her voice was colder than the ice pack.

“That’ll be all, Miss Potts.” Tony fled from both of them, going to check on the final stages of production for the exterior of the boots. He found a corner to lean into and tilted his head back. The eye was better. He was sick of Hawkeye’s apologies. Next time Tony had a PTSD attack, he was punching Hawkeye in the face, then they’d be even.

“What makes you think I won’t up and leave to avoid all this bullshit?”

“Don’t much care if you do, but it’s a done deal so get used to it.” Tony shut his working eye and enjoyed the ice pack. “Right now, Obie gets it all, and that’s not happening.”

“Holy shit, you think he tried to have you killed!”

“It’s possible.” Tony had resurrected from deletion two files that while heavily corrupted certainly suggested that Obie had known… something. And done nothing. “If he tries again and succeeds, promise me you’ll look after Pepper.”

Hawkeye was silent. Tony lowered his head and opened his eye. “I need a promise. On your bow.”

With a nod, Hawkeye sighed. “I’ll take care of her, and then I’ll kill him.”

“Good luck with that.” Tony got moving. There was a lot to do and finalizing his home interfaces was next on the list. “Jarvis, let’s push hard and get this done.”

“Sir, while I applaud your enthusiasm for less sleep, I believe I have located Trickshot as you requested.”

“No way,” Hawkeye whispered.

“Now? Really?” Tony sighed in frustration. “Okay, pull it altogether and print off a file. Pepper? Dearest?”

“Working,” she snipped.

“Could you text Agent Coulson and…” Tony raised his eyebrows at Clint. “Well?”

Hawkeye swallowed hard, blushing. “Somewhere deserted?”

“Ask him to meet me at the airport?”

There was a long enough silence that Tony went to his desk and started programming the interface.

“He agreed. Two hours.”

“Thanks, Pep.” Tony would work right up until the last minute. He glanced at Hawkeye, who looked ready to run. “You going to shower, put on some aftershave?”

“Shut up.” Hawkeye stalked away, and Tony laughed after him. It seemed like five minutes later, and Hawkeye was handing him a file and shoving him in the limo. Happy was driving, and Hawkeye took the passenger side front seat. Tony pulled himself out of programming and accepted the scotch. He noticed Hawkeye had on shades and a ball cap.

“That’s a lame disguise,” Tony muttered, smiling at the one-finger salute he received. “Got your aids in, huh?”

“For now.” Hawkeye didn’t turn around.

The scotch was gone by the time they got there, and Agent Coulson was waiting on the tarmac, sunglasses and suit, and Tony thought he heard Hawkeye mutter something about a showoff. Hawkeye had it bad for someone who didn’t know he existed. Literally.

Tony hefted the file and got out to lean against the hood. Hawkeye did the same, but on the other side of the limo, keeping his back to them, face turned away. Tony waggled the file. “I got something for you.”

Coulson twitched, but he didn’t grab for it. “The plans to your miniaturized arc reactor?”

“You wish. Does everyone know about that?”

“Everyone that matters.” Coulson’s shoulders slumped a little. “Two bodyguards? Getting paranoid?”

“Should I be?”

“Never hurts to be careful in your line of work.” Coulson made a small gesture that encompassed Tony’s bruised eye.

A very gentle warning, and Tony took it to heart. “Noted. Every now and again, in my line of work, someone pisses me off. Just so happens that this is also someone who I think you’re interested in putting in a small space for a number of years.”

Coulson extended his hand, and Tony let him take it. “I highly doubt this is anyone Shield would care about.” And he opened it. His sunglasses slid down, and he ignored them. “How did you? Never mind, I have to move on this. I have a chance to scoop up Hawkeye as well.” He slapped it shut. “I’d planned a long lecture on personal property and the law, but that will have to wait.”

Tony made sure his face showed nothing. He didn’t wave goodbye, but Coulson wouldn’t have seen it anyway. He was practically running to a military-grade helicopter. Tony strolled around to the other side of the limo. “He wants to scoop you up.”

“You have no proof he’s talking about me. Very common nickname. Very.” Hawkeye crossed his arms, expression sullen. “I like Lucky better, anyway.”

“The agent and the archer. The story writes itself.” Tony scooted a foot closer to him. “He’d arrest you and throw away the key.”

“I know. Stupid of me, liking someone at all.” Hawkeye had his head down. “It’s not like we ever spoke. Sure, he yelled at me a few times when I was running away. I’m just a criminal.”

“Not anymore, and I’m not sure it counts when you’re under duress.” Tony stared down at his boots, thinking furiously. “He doesn’t know what you look like, does he?”

“He might have a general idea, but I was careful to stay out of camera range. No identifying tattoos or visible scars.” Hawkeye sighed loudly. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“So many things, but give it time, Clint.” Tony punched him in the shoulder. “Let’s go finish the suit. I want to go flying.”

“I’m going to shoot arrows at you.”

“Can’t wait.”

********

“Did Pepper like that piano?” Hawkeye couldn’t stop laughing, but he did jerk the fire extinguisher out of Dummy’s claw.

“Obie bought it.” Tony didn’t want to move for a few minutes. “I flew so high.”

“Set a new record, or so Jarvis told me.” Hawkeye gave the underside of the car another shot with the extinguisher. “Did you nearly die?”

“It was amazing.” Adrenaline and exhaustion competed for space in Tony’s body. Hawkeye helped him wrestle off the helmet, and Tony took deep breaths. “So fast. I’m gonna have to fix the icing problem before I go to the moon.”

“I can’t believe you destroyed the Shelby Cobra.” Hawkeye frowned down at him. “Thank god it was fake.”

“It was a real one!” Anger gave Tony the strength to get to his feet. “I rebuilt most of it myself!”

“See. Fake.” Hawkeye helped him clank over to the armor bots, and they began stripping him out of it. “That exhaust system was never on a Shelby.”

“Okay, I custom made that. It was fun.” Tony made grabby hands at the fridge, and Hawkeye got him a juice. “Jarvis, get the contractors out here tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir, and may I suggest I call the insurance company?”

“And report a guy in a metal suit fell through the roof?” Tony felt like he might collapse. He downed the juice and nearly dropped to his knees when the last of the suit peeled away. Hawkeye was right there to hold him up. “I flew.”

“We’re all jealous, especially Dummy.” Hawkeye got him moving towards the door. “Let’s get you to bed. You’re done.”

“Sofa.”

“No.” Hawkeye never slowed down, dragging him through the house. Tony wanted to protest and struggle, a little, just to be in charge of the situation, but he ended up draped over Hawkeye’s shoulder and not remembering the moment he sank down onto the bed.

He jolted awake, the room dark except for the light from his chest, and every muscle in his body screamed. “Shit.” He couldn’t muster much power behind it. Even his voice hurt.

“Drink.” Hawkeye tapped a straw against Tony’s mouth, and Tony trusted him enough to drink. It was Gatorade, and it was heaven. He felt wrung out, tired beyond belief. Hawkeye stared down at him, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Every muscle hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“Dehydrated?”

“God, yes.” Tony shifted just enough to find a position that didn’t make him want to cry. “These results were unforeseen.”

“Jarvis did prepare a briefing.” Hawkeye was a dick. “Rest now, but later, you start getting in shape and learning to fight while inside a gaudy tin can.”

It was hard to listen with all the pain in his muscles. “My neck is killing me.”

“Unnatural head position. I’ll get an ice pack or six.” Hawkeye wasn’t all bad.

“Hey, if you see Pepper, cancel the rest of the week.” Tony wasn’t even joking. “On account I’m dead.”

There was no answer, and he couldn’t lift his head to see. When the bed dipped, he yelped a little as Hawkeye started arranging ice packs. It hurt. It felt good. God, it hurt. “I could’ve designed a plane instead.”

“Too late now.” Hawkeye helped him drink some more Gatorade. “Jarvis, twenty percent on the windows, please.”

Tony appreciated a little more light in the room. He doubted he’d be falling back to sleep, but since he didn’t want to move, he also didn’t want to lie in the dark. The ceiling was less than fascinating. “If I don’t tilt my head up, the HUD becomes useless.” He was talking to himself. 

“You need to strengthen your neck muscles. Billionaires are always useless bags of fat.”

Indignation replaced pain, and he flailed, trying to sit up and yowling. Hawkeye gave him a hand, and he was sitting. It hurt. He took several deep breaths. “Hating you so much right now.”

“Gotta get moving, or it’ll be worse.” Hawkeye put an ice bag on the base of Tony’s neck. “Also, Pepper might think you’re drunk.”

“I sincerely wish I was.” Tony kept a hold of Hawkeye’s arm. “Everything hurts.” He wasn’t proud that he sorta slumped against him. “Everything.”

“I can get you an ice bath?” Hawkeye didn’t shove him away. “Other than that, exercise and pain killers help.”

“Let’s explore pain killers first.” Tony would never voluntarily take an ice bath. He shuddered at the idea and groaned at the ache.

“I already looked. Unless you have a Dr. Feelgood on call, all you have is aspirin. Not even Tylenol.” Hawkeye adjusted the ice pack and eased Tony back down. “Secret stash somewhere?”

Tony glared at him, not even sure what to say.

“Come on, all you rich guys have piles of blow and X.” Hawkeye moved ice packs around, and Tony let out a long breath.

“Sir does not have a stash of drugs, but I believe Miss Potts has some Tylenol in her desk.”

Hawkeye groaned. “You owe me big time for this, and Jarvis, remind him to buy some goddamn drugs!”

It was impossible not to laugh as Hawkeye stomped away in his ragged jeans and worn T-shirt. “Jarvis, he’s fun, huh?”

“Highly entertaining.” Jarvis paused. “I do appreciate his care for you. Otherwise, you’d have been prostrated on the floor in the shop for hours. Dummy is always distressed when that happens.”

“Me too.” Tony’s pride insisted he get up and take a shower. Tony’s muscles were having none of that. “How does a person even get in shape for flying a can through the air?” he asked no one in particular.

“Hawkeye and I are working on an exercise regimen. I am sure you will despise it.”

“Oh, goodie.” Tony fumbled his hand under his shirt and checked the seating of his arc reactor. When he could walk to the shop, he was running a diagnostic to make sure he hadn’t stressed what was keeping him alive. That was important.

“Never doing that again,” Hawkeye snarled. “I’ll walk to the damn store and buy some if I have to next time. Rich people are so goddamn weird. Booze fucking everywhere, and no fucking painkillers. What the hell even.”

“We have a pharmacy on home call. Would you like me to place an order of painkillers? They deliver.”

“I fucking hate you both!” Hawkeye got him the Gatorade and pushed the Tylenol at Tony’s sagging mouth. Tony swallowed them down and chugged.

“Sir, we may have a problem. Colonel Rhodes has just pulled into the driveway.”

“Shit, they saw me on radar.” Tony grabbed Hawkeye by the arm. “Run. Get me a bottle of booze. Move!”

Hawkeye ran, and he was fast, Tony would give him that, as he forced his sore arms to hold the bottle as he drank deeply. The doorbell rang, and he sloshed some on his clothes. Hawkeye scooped up the ice packs and ran to the closet, returning with some sex toys that he tossed on the bed. Tony rolled his eyes and continued to drink until the bottle was empty. He tossed it on the bed, glad it had been almost empty because his arm hurt from holding it up.

“Jarvis, lock the shop tighter than a drum,” Tony said. He curled, going boneless. Hawkeye dashed out the door and was back, putting mostly empty bottles on every flat surface. That done, he scurried to the corner and curled up on the floor by the telescope. Tony approved, waiting, and it wasn’t long.

“Tony? There was a lot of weird shit going on in the sky around here last night,” Rhodey said, striding in the door and stopping. Pepper was right behind him, lingering at the door. “Shit.”

Acting drunk was easy, so easy, and it helped that it really hurt to move any part of his body. Tony had to do it, and he hated it, but he had to buy a little time to understand where everyone fit in the clusterfuck that was his life. “Rhodester!”

“Damn it!” Rhodey paced back and forth, ignoring Tony’s flailing hands and babbling. Pepper stared for a few moments and then slipped away, no doubt disgusted. Rhodey seemed to make up his mind, striding over to Hawkeye and giving him a kick. Tony jerked in shock and dropped off the side of the bed, trying to get up and go to them. Rhodey demanded, “Tell me what Tony was up to last night.”

There was no answer from the corner, and Tony had to get moving.

“Don’t bother keeping his secrets. You mean nothing to him. He doesn’t give a shit about people. Robots, yes. People, no. He’ll get tired of you in about a week, wave his hand, and you’ll be in the fight rings where you belong.” Rhodey hesitated. “So, again, before I call the police and report you for attacking your owner, because you and I both know who gave him that shiner. What was Tony up to last night?”

Tony could see some truth in all that. He wasn’t good with people. Tech was so much easier, and he had waved his hand before to make people leave him the hell alone. Forcing his body to work, he staggered over to Rhodey and hung on him. “Rhodey! You should’ve seen it!”

“Tony?” Rhodey shifted away from Hawkeye, and that’s what mattered.

“It was awesome!” Tony laughed and clutched at him. “Drones and repulsors! Who knew they’d fly so high?” He giggled. “I did, but it was fun!”

Rhodey steered him back to the bed. “Drones?”

“I bought ‘em on-line!” Tony yanked on him. “I was gonna hook them to one of my cars, but Hawkeye thought that was an awful idea. It wasn’t! It would’ve worked!”

“No, Tony, no.” Rhodey took a deep breath. “Jarvis, could you please curtail Tony’s excesses?”

“I don’t take orders from you, Colonel Rhodes,” Jarvis said. “Hawkeye, would you please return to the shop? Dummy has made a terrible mess with the blender, again.”

Tony grabbed Rhodey’s arm, pulling him further from Hawkeye. “I need to puke.”

“Christ.”

Hawkeye made it out the door while Tony forced Rhodey to help him to the en-suite. Tony fell to his knees, hunched over the toilet, and faked it, covering with his arm. Rhodey backed away and left him there. Tony whispered, “Jarvis?”

“He is with Miss Potts. There are discussing steps to be taken to prevent another drone incident.”

“You covered my tracks on that, right?”

“Of course, sir. And as Miss Potts attests, you have received a number of large packages recently.”

He’d have to be more careful, and with shaking hands, he stripped off his clothes and fumbled into the shower. Every damn muscle in his body hurt, even his ass. It was hard not to whimper. He shampooed fast and then slumped onto the bench, letting the water pound at him.

“I wouldn’t do that to Clint, would I?” Tony wasn’t sure, not at all.

“You would not.” Jarvis sounded sure. It was reassuring. Jarvis knew things. Tony rubbed his face and decided Hawkeye was right. It was time to get in shape and learn how to fight. He was sure Hawkeye would help him, if only to laugh at him, if nothing else. Jarvis shut the water off, and Tony fought his way over to the towels, cursing every step.

“Feeling better?” Rhodey asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Not so much.” Tony wrapped the towels around his waist and dropped another around his shoulders. “You have anything else to yap at me about? I gotta pass out.”

“You’re making it easy for the Board to lock you out, Tony. Get help.”

Tony couldn’t even look at him. “Are you here as my friend? Because I’m damn sure I fired you from your position at Stark Industries.”

“I’m here to keep you out of prison for violating United States’ air space.”

“Like that’s a thing.” Tony limped and staggered back to the bed, tossing a dildo at Rhodey.

“There are no legal restrictions on drones at this time,” Jarvis said.

“Not that it matters because we destroyed them all.” Tony laughed, arranging the towels and pulling the covers over his aching body. “I should head to Dubai for a couple of weeks,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes. “They like me there.”

Rhodey said nothing, and before Tony drifted to sleep, Jarvis said, “Colonel Rhodes has exited the property.”

Waking up the second time was slightly better. Only slightly, and Tony downed the Tylenol and drained the Gatorade on his bedside table before putting his feet on the floor. He bumbled his way to the closet and found some clothes while trying to do a few small stretches. “Shit.”

“Mr. Barton has asked you to join him for dinner. Apparently, it is taco night at the Stark residence.”

“How the hell did he get Chef to agree to that?” Tony found some socks and bit back a whimper as he put them on his feet. So sore. So sore. And boots weren’t happening.

“Chef quit yesterday. Mr. Barton is cooking.”

There were no words for how wrong that was, and Tony sincerely hoped Pepper didn’t do something rash, like call pet control. With the help of a wall, he made it to the kitchen. Pepper didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed at the taco in her mouth. Tony dropped into the seat next to her, wincing from the pull of muscles.

“Did you seduce her with tacos, Barton?”

“My tacos are works of art that deserved to be worshipped.” Hawkeye slid a plate of tacos in front of him. “Don’t worry, I asked Jarvis what you liked on them.”

Pepper dotted at her mouth with a napkin. “Clint and I have buried the hatchet. It turns out we have a common goal.”

“Eating tacos?” Tony mumbled around a mouthful of Mexican heaven.

“Keeping you alive and Obie from killing us all.” Pepper delicately started on her next taco. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I’m not entirely sure we can trust Colonel Rhodes.”

“She knows your drunk drama was an act.” Hawkeye’s plate was heaped. “Also, the guy kicked me.”

Tony finished his taco first because a man had to have priorities. “He’ll be in my corner if we need him. He’s listening to Obie right now, and that’s bad.”

“Tony, you fired him.” Pepper had her eyebrows up, and that was never good. “Obie was furious when he found out he couldn’t over-rule you on that, and now the military is refusing to send over other candidates because you threatened to cancel all weapons’ production. I honestly thought Obie’s head might explode.”

Hawkeye laughed. “That’d be something to get on video.”

“Trust me on this.” Tony was sure he didn’t sound confident. “Jarvis, how come I haven’t seen Obie’s laptop yet?”

“Checking.” Jarvis took enough time for Tony to put a taco in his mouth. “He threw it against the wall in his office.”

“I could’ve fixed it.” Tony scowled. “Oh well, it’d been worth a try. Hawkeye, every muscle hurts. It hurts to eat.”

“I’ll fix you,” Hawkeye mumbled around a mouthful.

Tony groaned, knowing it was necessary and he’d hate most of it. “I’m in damn good shape.”

“For an eccentric billionaire. Who drinks like a fish.” Hawkeye smirked. “Sure, you know a little kung fu, some boxing, but you’re not in shape. Miss Potts works out every day. You play at it.”

Pepper gave Hawkeye a smile that made Tony glare at them both and waggled a finger at him. “And I don’t want to know what you made in the shop. Ever.”

“Okay.” Tony decided some plausible deniability in Pepper’s case was probably a good thing. “Maybe we should open the house in Dubai. Have a party.”

Neither of them stopped eating tacos, and Tony knew when he was beat. “Fine, but I want a masseuse on staff until Hawkeye is through beating on me.”

“Wimp.” Hawkeye rolled his eyes.

Pepper smiled. “Jarvis, make sure to have a masseuse and a nutritionist on staff by the morning. Also, warn the maid there will be workout clothes in the laundry.”

“And tell her to stop masturbating on my bed,” Tony grumbled, laughing when he saw Pepper’s affronted face. He slammed his last taco and held out his plate for more, controlling his wince at how much his arms hurt. Hawkeye frowned. Tony smiled his best. “Last supper. Tomorrow, I’m going to die.”

“You got a point.” Hawkeye fixed him another plate and slid it over with a short laugh. “We start after lunch.”

Tony stared down at the food and then shrugged. “At least I’ll die well-fed.”

********

“Come on, Stark! Push through it!”

“I’d almost rather die.” Tony rolled to his back and groaned. He hurt.

“Well, you’ll get your wish, if we don’t get you ready to fight.” Hawkeye flopped down on the mat next to him. “Your flexibility is better, but your reaction time has got to improve.”

“The suit is going to help me with that.” Tony hoped so at least. “Jarvis is my co-pilot.”

Hawkeye nodded. “Jarvis, did you study all the fighting techniques of the last two centuries?”

There was a long pause that Tony estimated to be about fifty years in computing time. “Jarvis?”

“I will be done momentarily.” Jarvis managed to sound contrite.

Tony laughed, unable to help himself. “Congrats, Clint. You managed to out-think my AI.”

“Better throw in all the techniques of jet fighters.” Hawkeye took a long stretch. “And keep your flying within safe limits. You don’t want to pull so many Gs that you pass out.”

“I’d thought of that.” Tony was going to ignore it, mostly. “I’m hitting the shower.”

Shrugging, Hawkeye stripped off his shirt and rubbed his face with it. Tony was proud that he’d made the guy sweat a little.

“Boxing? For some reason, I thought I’d find you in the shop.” Coulson’s voice rang out as he strolled into the gym, hands in his pockets. “Also? Who puts a boxing ring in their house?”

“I do.” Tony could see panic all over Hawkeye’s face. Tony sat up and shifted around so that Hawkeye’s face was right behind him, hidden from Coulson’s view. “You here to harass me?”

“Director Fury wanted to me to thank you, and I was hoping for that long overdue de-brief.” Coulson seemed to be shifting so he could see around to Hawkeye.

Tony tapped Hawkeye’s leg and quickly signed a message. They moved as one; Tony headed straight for Coulson to distract him, and Hawkeye made a jump out of the ring, down, and was out the door.

Coulson’s eyebrows went up. “He didn’t seem shy the other day.”

“Well, he is.” Tony slugged back some water. He wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve. “Jarvis, please inform me the next time Agent Coulson is on the property.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m harmless, Stark.” Coulson’s grin was anything but reassuring. “Let’s discuss your pet. Where did you purchase him?”

“Let’s not play games.” Tony did want a little information, but he wasn’t going to give any. “You catch those guys?”

“Trickshot, yes. Unfortunately, it seems as if he murdered Hawkeye. Director Fury was very disappointed.” Coulson’s eyes were sharp. “Tell me again how you became involved?”

“No.” It was time to get moving, no surprise that Coulson refused to be left behind. Tony waffled between a protein shake and a shower before deciding on liquid nourishment. His nutritionist must’ve been warned by Jarvis because the shake was ready, along with a cup of coffee for Coulson, and Tony went to the big front window in the living room to drink it. “Thanks for stopping by. Next time, send an email.”

“You don’t answer them.”

“True.” Tony stared out at the ocean, not really thinking, just drinking his food. “You married, Coulson?”

“To the job.”

Tony believed him. “Women aren’t for men like us.”

Pepper would’ve smacked him for being dramatic, and Hawkeye would’ve thrown something at him for being stupid. Coulson raised his eyebrow. “I find it very interesting that Trickshot kills Hawkeye, and you pick up a feral pet about the same time. Records chipped him as Clint Barton, who disappeared at age ten.”

Controlling his face and reactions was a skill that Tony learned at the knee of his father. He finished his shake and never even twitched. “I call him Lucky most days. They were taking him back to the pit to put him down.”

Coulson flinched, right around the eyes, a very tiny movement, but Tony saw it. “The vet recorded a number of injuries, none severe. Do I have any reason to believe Clint Barton is Hawkeye?”

“Seems to me that Trickshot would’ve known the name of the man he killed.” Tony put his glass down and took a long stretch, shaking out his muscles. He waved in the vague direction of the door. “See yourself out. I’m hitting the shower. Jarvis, please make sure Agent Coulson actually leaves.”

“It concerns me that you didn’t even ask who Hawkeye was, and Trickshot did mention that Hawkeye was deaf.” Coulson said, dropping his bombs with clear and clean precision, and it would’ve worked on any man except one who built missiles for a living. Tony didn’t even blink, because it all meant nothing right now. If Nick Fury had been sure, he’d have sent an extraction team, not one agent.

JARVIS said, “Two out of every thousand children born in the US are deaf, Agent Coulson. It is hardly an identifier. The door is to your right.”

Tony made a mute gesture and didn’t rush, but he was gone. He stripped out of his sweaty clothes and hit the shower, feeling the tremble in his muscles while his brain raced around trying to find a solution to the mess he’d made for Hawkeye. Coulson was relentless once he had his teeth into something.


	7. Chapter 7

“The render is complete, sir.”

“You went with the red, didn’t you?” Hawkeye leaned over Tony’s shoulder. “Ugh. Purple would’ve been so much better.”

“I’ll make yours purple.” Tony got all the balls rolling and then pushed away from his desk. “Did you eat?”

“That was hours ago. If I were a real pet, I’d be dead.” Hawkeye perched his hip on the corner of Tony’s desk. “Seriously, don’t get a pet.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but his attention had been caught by the news report on the television. “Did we get an invite to that, Jarvis?”

“I have no record of it arriving, sir.”

“They don’t want you at your own gala.” Hawkeye picked up the mask and put it over his face. “I would be insulted, if I were you.”

“I think I am.” Tony took the mask from him and looked through it at the television. “You coming?”

Hawkeye sighed and rubbed his face. “Really? That’s black tie.”

“I know. It’s my fundraiser.” Tony eased to his feet and took a long stretch. “Jarvis, have Happy bring a car around.”

“Mr. Hogan has taken Miss Potts to the gala,” Jarvis said.

“I’ll take the Audi.” He went to change, not into his best suit, but one that was comfortable. “Don’t wait up, honey!”

********

“Are you going to stay in the car? Do I need to crack a window?” Tony had no idea what Hawkeye thought he was doing. Planning to go alone had been derailed when Hawkeye had jumped in the car and refused to get out. “Do you need a bowl of water?”

“I hate you.” Hawkeye got out, shoved his hands in his pockets, and put on a face that could probably kill people at ten meters. Tony tossed the keys to the valet and crossed to the sidewalk. Hawkeye looked like a fancy, pampered pet, except for his bad attitude. “Wait, Tony.”

Tony had already been waiting, but he raised his eyebrows. “Your suit looks great, very fitting for a Stark. Don’t worry.”

“It’s ridiculous.” Hawkeye pulled out his hearing aids and stowed them in the inside pocket of his jacket. “I can’t handle all the background chatter.”

With a nod, Tony started up the stairs, patting Hugh Hefner on the back and waving to the crowd. People screamed at him, but after he saw Stane, he headed right for him. “Obie.”

“Tony!” Stane narrowed his eyes. “I thought we agreed no public appearances?”

“I’ve just got cabin fever. A quick in and out.” Tony felt like a little kid who’d disobeyed his father, and he hated it. “No big deal.”

Stane had an ugly look on his face. “Brought your therapy pet, huh? What a joke. Everyone can see he’s a fighter. Sell him to me.”

“I adopted him.” Tony needed to snap and snarl. “He’ll inherit everything, so back off.” It wasn’t true, not yet, but he wanted Stane off-balance.

“What the hell?” Stane stepped, and Hawkeye slid between them. Hawkeye had his murder face on, and Stane stopped. Tony took the opportunity to slide away into the crowd, knowing that Hawkeye could handle it. He headed straight for the bar, ordered a drink and sure enough, there was Miss Potts, looking like a million dollars.

Tony leaned against the bar to nurse his whiskey and see if she was with someone. Hawkeye slipped in next to him, and Tony ordered him a drink as well. Tony pointed at him and made an OK sign. Hawkeye nodded and grinned. He whispered right in Tony’s ear, “I didn’t hit him.”

“You should’ve.” Tony made sure Hawkeye could see his lips. “Watch him. He wants to use you as a fighter.”

Hawkeye shrugged and sipped his drink. Tony turned back, found Pepper again, and she was dancing with Happy. They laughed at something together, and he could see how it was. It was fine. Happy would never disappear into his shop for a week at a time, or forget her birthday.

Tony took his drink, Hawkeye right behind him, and went up to the roof for some fresh air. He chatted mindlessly, steering away from topics of any consequence, and when he spotted Agent Coulson standing guard at one of the exits, Tony spun to block Hawkeye from view.

“Coulson is here,” Tony said.

“Shit,” Hawkeye said. He whispered it, and Tony had never seen such a combination of want and despair on a man’s face. It felt wrong, like he was eavesdropping. Hawkeye sighed. “I should just tell him. He suspects.”

“No. He’ll drop you in a hole.” Tony kept his lips in clear sight and made an emphatic slicing gesture. He wasn’t having it. “Now, straighten your shoulders and smile.”

“Is everything okay here, Mr. Stark, and…?” Coulson was right behind them.

Tony turned, but easy, not like he was nervous. He felt Hawkeye tuck close like a bodyguard would. “Lucky is my bodyguard tonight, so no flirting.”

Coulson’s eyes widened, and he flushed. He actually did, even in the low light, it was visible. Then he coughed, cleared his throat, and said, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“At my own benefit?” Tony sipped his drink and smiled. “Tell me, are you keeping an eye on Stane?” He didn’t wait for an answer because he knew one wouldn’t be coming. “Never mind. I don’t care.”

“It’s nice to formally meet you, Mr. Barton.” Coulson somehow managed to maneuver right around Tony, extending his hand. Tony wanted to slap it away, wrap his arm around Clint’s shoulder, protect him, and in that one pure moment, he realized he’d gotten far too attached. No good ever came from that.

Hawkeye hesitated, licking his lower lip and biting it. Eyes down, shoulders even hunched, he shook Coulson’s hand. Coulson lingered with the clasp, and Tony didn’t like it.

“Back off, Coulson. Your pants are staying zipped tonight.” Tony put himself between them and glared. “Go do recon elsewhere.”

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!”

The interruption and ensuing flurry of press gave Tony a chance to retreat downstairs, taking Hawkeye with him and away from Coulson. It was there at the bar that he ran into another nightmare.

Christine Everhart had a way of getting under Tony’s skin, and he stared at the pictures too long, knowing so many truths and almost wishing he didn’t. “I’m not my company!” he snapped, but she was on a roll, and Tony finally turned and fled, unable to stand there any longer. He didn’t even notice if Hawkeye was with him, confronting Obie on the stairs about the photos.

“I thought there were some lines we didn’t cross!” Tony snapped.

“This is how we do business.” Stane invaded Tony’s space, and Tony thought he might actually see red from the anger and betrayal. “Picture time, Tony. Smile for the cameras.”

Tony’s head throbbed and his breath came short, but he smiled, like he’d been trained. “This is wrong.”

Obie’s smile stank of hatred. “Who do you think filed an injunction against you?”

“No. No.” But Tony knew the truth when he heard it. Everything he’d suspected was truth, and he pushed away, practically running down the stairs, but of course his car wasn’t ready. Someone grabbed his arm and he turned, lashing out, but his fist was caught. “Nothing I knew was real!”

“So, happy birthday!” Hawkeye shouted at right back at him. “Welcome to the real world! You got thrown out of your ivory tower! Congrats!”

It stunned away some of his anger, but it didn’t go away, it coalesced into something more like wrath. “I’m not enjoying the fall!”

Right behind Hawkeye stood Coulson, sunglasses on at night. “No one would expect that you would.”

“Damn it.” Tony wrenched his hand away. “This is wrong.” He wasn’t going to let more Yinsens die if he could do something to stop it. The valet pulled up in his car, and he was driving before Hawkeye had the door shut, leaving Coulson on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. If Hawkeye said anything on the ride home, Tony didn’t hear him over the noise in his brain, demanding action.

“Jarvis,” Tony snarled, throwing the keys at the board, “get it ready.”

“Sir, if I may…”

“No! We’re going!” Tony started stripping off his clothes, not caring that he wasn’t even near his closet. “God damn Obie!” The betrayal hurt, and he understood the knife in the back metaphor now. Obie was family, a link to his parents, and Tony wanted to rage, fight, and throw up in the bathroom.

“Settle down! If you’re going into a fight, use your brain!”

“I know!” Tony yelled back at him. “The suit will protect me!”

“Maybe.” Hawkeye helped him into the black jumpsuit. “Stay close to the ground, under radar. That area is blanketed by satellites. If they spot you, they’ll send fighter planes. Want to go up against one of those?”

That pulled Tony up short. “Not really. I made most of those missiles. I know what they can do.”

“And ground to surface missiles might knock you out of the sky. So, fly low, land and hide if you need to, and don’t kill any civilians.”

“Of course not!”

“Tony.” Hawkeye stepped close but was obviously not going to touch him. “People die in conflicts like these. You blast a building, on purpose or by accident, someone will die. Don’t make mistakes you can’t live with in the morning.”

The words settled a lot of the fury in Tony’s gut. “I killed dozens getting out of Afghanistan the first time.” He took a deep breath. “Mercenaries.”

“Or guys looking for a meal and willing to do anything not to starve.” Hawkeye didn’t step back. “Just. Fight smart so you can live with the ghosts.”

 “All of this is Obie’s fault.” But Tony nodded. He’d be careful. “Jarvis, help me not kill civilians.”

“I will do my best. Sir, it is nearing noon in Gulmira.”

“Gotta fly.” Tony ran, Hawkeye beat him there, and then the bots took over. “Clint, take care of Pepper.”

“I will.” Hawkeye stepped back. “Don’t be stupid. You know, like usual.”

The mask slid down, and Tony went for the sky, hitting it hard, but this time, playing it smart and finding a path below radar until he was over the ocean. The suit was a dream to fly, responsive as hell, and as he skimmed over the waves, ideas about waterproofing skipped around in his brain.

“Tony, Pepper and Happy are back at the house,” Hawkeye said through the comm system.

“Oh, shit.” Tony groaned, not liking any of the scenarios that came to mind. “Go dark. Hide.”

“Sir, I also have detected Agent Coulson’s vehicle coming up the drive.”

“Jarvis, help Hawkeye not panic and find him a hidey hole. No one in my lab.” Tony groaned again. “Jesus Fuck, the car.”

“I had it moved into the garage, which is now locked down.” Jarvis kept on pulling Tony’s ass out of the fire.

“Good job, Jay.” Tony could only hope that Hawkeye would stay hidden, and not be drawn out by his mancrush. “Hawkeye?”

“Agent Coulson wants to search the house. Miss Potts is uncertain.”

“Text her. Tell her that I’m somewhere doing something that I probably shouldn’t be doing.”

“I’ll attempt for more clarity than that.”

“And where is Hawkeye?” Tony didn’t like the way Jarvis had dodged that.

 “I’m uncertain, sir.”

“Shit.” Tony had to trust that Hawkeye was smart enough not to get caught by Coulson. Trust was hard, especially the smart kind. “All right, let’s fly faster.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Face it, this isn’t the worst thing you’ve seen me do,” Tony said, adrenaline still making him heady, mouthy.

“Are those bullet holes?” She went pale, pointing with a slightly shaking hand.

“Maybe a couple.” Tony hoped not. They’d be a bitch to fix.

“Just dents,” Hawkeye said from his position near Tony’s boots. “Suit held up pretty well, considering the crazy guy who made it.”

Tony tried and failed to glare down at him. “I made it to come off!”

“If you’d hold still,” Hawkeye said. Jarvis echoed him, and Tony huffed in exasperation. They were going to pull his legs off at this rate. Hawkeye gave a great pull and a grunt, followed by a bot that swooped in, and one of the boots dropped off. “Damn it!”

Cursing, Tony behaved a little better, not liking it at all. “Jarvis, hack back into Stark Industries and find my weapons. This is just the first step in putting things right. Pepper, I need you to do everything you can to keep Obie off my back.”

She looked up at him, face still far too pale. “I’m not going to help you kill yourself!”

The suit gave way almost all at once, and Hawkeye caught Tony around the waist to keep him from falling to his knees. Tony heaved out a huge breath, finding his feet. “Pepper, I know in my heart that this is the right thing to do. You stood by me while I reaped the rewards from destruction, and you can’t help me put it right?”

“I can’t watch you die.” Her eyes were going red. “Tony, just…”

“No. This is my mission. I know, finally, why I survived in that cave. There is only this now.” He padded to her, wanting to hug her, hold her, but she would never allow it. “I need your help.”

She looked from the suit to him, over to Hawkeye, and back. “Of course you do, but…”

“He’s gonna die if you don’t help,” Hawkeye said, strolling back from the fridge and handing Tony a water. Tony cracked it open, and then noticed Pepper staring at his hands where he’d taken the bottle. She looked a little stunned, and he shrugged. It didn’t mean anything, not really. He’d just been worn down by proximity. He drank enough water to wash the sand from his mouth.

Pepper sighed. “So, Hawkeye, where were you while Tony was off doing things in that suit that are probably on the news but I certainly know nothing about?”

“Pet stuff. Being a good boy.”

There was a long pause, and then Pepper laughed. Tony was a little shocked. He took another big drink, realized there really was the taste of sand in his mouth, and he could feel his hands begin to shake. He’d gone there and done that, people were dead, and he’d nearly been caught by two fighters that had streaked overhead. Rhodey would’ve loved to catch him violating the law.

“He’s freaking.”

“What should we do?” Pepper’s high-pitched voice came from far away.

“Pepper, stop freaking. Go away. I got this.”

“Hawkeye, I didn’t kill any civilians.” Tony needed to breathe. “I think.”

“You were careful. You were good.” Hawkeye didn’t touch him, but somehow herded him to the sofa, where Dummy waited with a smoothie. Tony took it and thanked him, sinking down into the comfort. Hawkeye talked and talked, and the words didn’t stick but Tony heard them, and his lungs started to work again, and he pressed the cool glass to his forehead.

“There was a boy. I saved his father. For today.” Tony had no illusions that life was safe in Gulmira now. “It was like I’d never left. The same bunch of assholes, killing people.” He took a big drink, liking the cold in his mouth. For once, it seemed Dummy had skipped putting in the oil. “Are you okay? Coulson had a look in his eyes. I don’t like it.”

“I’m fine. Coulson worries about you. I’m not sure why.” Hawkeye pulled a chair close and sat down facing him. “Breathe the way you learned. You made the news. Coulson’s no idiot, but I don’t know about Rhodey.”

Tony pressed the glass to his face before taking another big swallow. “Jarvis, button up the shop. Hawkeye, let’s go topside.”

“If we gotta.” Hawkeye patted Dummy on the arm and hustled away, up into his nest. Tony didn’t question it, glad for a moment to get himself together. He was tired of feeling on the edge of collapse, but he knew what he had to do now. He’d find his weapons, and he’d destroy them, and if he ended up dead, so be it.

The stairs seemed like they took forever, but Hawkeye got hold of him halfway up, and then they went faster. Hawkeye supervised Tony’s shower, which wasn’t necessary, but he made it clear that his hearing aids were out and he wasn’t listening. Tony gave him the finger, just to make his point. After the shower, wrapped in a thick robe, Tony ate a light meal in bed, delivered by Hawkeye, who sprawled on the floor, fiddling with the telescope.

Tony pushed the tray away and scooped up an abandoned tablet, tapping rapidly. “Pepper, my love, how goes the adoption process?”

“I greased the wheels. It’ll happen soon.” She was in her office on the other side of the house. “Obie is in Afghanistan, or so the office rumor mill says. Word is he took a ton of military security with him.”

“Well, shit.” Tony wasn’t sure what it meant, but it probably wasn’t good. “And Coulson?”

There was a long pause. “I think he likes Hawkeye,” she whispered.

“He has other motives. He wants to put Hawkeye in prison.” Tony narrowed his eyes and got a bad feeling in his guts. “Hang on.” He disconnected from her. “Jarvis, has Pepper used the name Hawkeye around Coulson?”

“Scanning files.” Jarvis hesitated four long seconds. “She has, sir. Twice.”

Tony threw the tablet at the wall, not caring that it crunched. “Coulson knows. He’s playing a game. Fuck.” He scrunched down in the bed, mind racing. He was goddamn genius, and an idiot, and there had to be a way to keep his friend safe, not a pet, damn it.

He fell asleep before it came to him, and when he woke up, he didn’t look right or left, he went to his shop to fix his suit, hoisting it up on chains so he could work on the interior. Hawkeye gave him a hard look and threw some jeans at his head, which he deigned to put on, but the white shirt could just get oily. Nothing mattered but his suit.

A sandwich was shoved at his face, and he ate it out of politeness, not tasting anything but fear that he was behind on this project. Time crept up on him, finally forcing him away, but it was done, even good, and he was surprised to see that it was dark. The house was quiet, no Pepper, no Hawkeye smirking from a perch, and he slumped down on the sofa, spotting a phone on the coffee table.

He punched in the number, hearing Pepper pick up and then his body and brain short-circuited, whiting out and then jumping back to hear, “Easy, easy.”

It felt like every muscle was on fire, and of course it was Obie, talking and talking. The man loved an audience, and Tony’s eyes watered, and he couldn’t focus, couldn’t find his hands. He’d never been more alone, and his body was ripping apart. So dead, dead, and Obie smiled, talking about geese for some god damn reason, and Tony couldn’t breathe.

“It’s too bad I have to kill Pepper. I like her.”

His mouth wouldn’t work, and if Obie hurt Pepper, well, Obie would wish Tony had killed him. Oh god, he was dead, and fifteen minutes was an eternity when every moment meant shrapnel was heading for his heart. Yinsen hadn’t told him how long he’d live if the battery went dead. Dead. He flailed, movement coming back in a rush, but his body didn’t want to work, and he fell and fell, down to the shop, relieved he’d had the sense to put in an elevator.

Sweat poured down his body, and his breath came in gasps, automatic lights blinking on, and everything hurt when he crashed to the floor. Dummy nearly fell on him, and he decided dying in his shop was fine.

“Tony!” Hawkeye grabbed hold of him. “What the hell? I took out my aids! Fuck!”

“Jarvis,” Tony whispered. “Reset. Code.”

“How about we deal with the hole in your chest?” Hawkeye yelled down at him.

“Tony!” Rhodey was suddenly just there. “Shit!”

“Do you have another arc reactor?” Hawkeye helped him lay back in Rhodey’s arms.

“No.”

“Pepper told me she gave him the old one, like a souvenir,” Rhodey said. Hawkeye was gone from Tony’s field of view, and he stared up at Rhodey.

“Hey.”

“Obie did this, didn’t he?” Rhodey didn’t wait for an answer. “The man’s gone off the rails. I’m sorry, Tony. I lost sight of what was important.”

“Yeah.” Tony tried to breathe, but it felt like an anvil was sitting on his chest. “I knew we were okay, just mad.”

“Here!” Hawkeye slid down next to him and put it in Tony’s hand. “Pepper saves your ass again.”

Tony fumbled it, but managed with a guiding hand to push it down and twist it to lock. Immediately, he felt like living was a possibility. “Need suit.”

“What you need is a hospital,” Rhodey said.

“Obie has my arc reactor. I know him. He’s got something big to put it in,” Tony wheezed out each word, but he was growing stronger, fighting to his feet on the last word. “Hawkeye, go reset. Use any password.”

Hawkeye darted away, and Tony tried to stand straight. “Suit. Now.”

“That was you in Afghanistan,” Rhodey said. “Not a drone. You.”

“I’m going to help the people I put in harm’s way.” Tony patted Dummy on the strut. “Get me something to drink.”

“Jarvis is up!”

“Sir! Intruder! Intruder!”

“Little late, Jay,” Tony said, letting Rhodey help him over to the station. Rhodey never took his eyes off the silver suit – the Mark II. “Prep the suit. I’m running late.”

“As usual,” Jarvis said.

Hawkeye went dashing by, climbing up into his loft, and Tony saw Rhodey judge him again. “Rhodey, stop.”

“You’re too generous, always have been.” Rhodey sounded gruff, even protective. “And no one paid me to be your friend.”

“I know.” Tony took the sports drink from Dummy and chugged about half of it. “Ready, Jarvis?”

“That chest piece wasn’t designed to operate a suit of this power. Our options will be limited.”

“We’ll have to get creative then.” Tony nudged Rhodey away, handing off the sports drink and stepping into the boots. The suit grew around him, and he took a deep breath, feeling safe once he was inside. “Scan for shrapnel damage.”

“Your vitals are returning to normal, and I see no damage that wasn’t present in the last scan.”

Tony raised his visor. “Rhodey, keep the skies clear.”

“Will do.” Rhodey pointed at the Mark II. “Next time.”

“Maybe.” Tony glanced up at Hawkeye’s nest and hoped he’d stay put, out of the way if Coulson showed up. He dropped the visor, blasted his destroyed Shelby out of the way, and hit it hard, not sure of his final destination but knowing that his factory was a good place to start.

“Sir, Hawkeye is pursuing on your Bugatti.”

“What?” Tony didn’t have time for this. “Open his comm. Hawkeye, go home.”

“Oh, hell no,” Hawkeye said. “He thinks he can come into your house and pull this shit? I’m going to stuff an arrow so far up his ass!”

“You can’t risk it!” But Tony wasn’t slowing down.

“I do what I want. Now fly. We gotta get to Pepper before he does.”

Unable to argue that point, Tony put on extra speed, what little he had, and had Jarvis try her phone, but it went straight to voice mail. “Shit.”

“I will keep calling.”

The factory was in their sights when he finally connected with her. “Pepper!”

“Tony, Obadiah has gone insane!”

“Get out of there right now!”

The armor was huge – a travesty – looking like some bloated pot belly stove, and Tony yelled on the exterior speakers as he hit it as hard as he could. He didn’t expect a suburban housewife to run over him, but the rest of the fight was par for the course. Bruises and muscles screamed as he did his best not to die. He was severely outgunned, and he promised that if he lived through this he’d make sure it didn’t happen again.

“Hawkeye! What’s your ETA?” Tony shouted as he fell from the sky, intermittent pulses from his boots keeping him alive.

“On site. Pepper is safe with Rhodey. Shield agents were hit hard.”

“Get your ass home.”

Tony fumbled the landing on the roof, stripping off the gauntlet that no longer worked and tossing it aside. This was finished. The ocean would swallow Obie in his mockery of a suit. The roar behind him made him turn, and even before he could panic, an arrow came out of nowhere and pierced the slot of the arm on Obie’s suit. Tony ran for cover, and the explosion was impressive.

“I’m going to kill you, Tony!” Obie started firing, and Tony used the cover Hawkeye provided to get behind him.

“How about we rip you apart and recycle you instead?” Tony threw parts aside before being tossed the length of the building. Hawkeye flashed in front of him and fired multiple arrows at the same time. Tony took a deep breath and got back into the fight, shocked when gunfire rang out, pinging off Obie’s head. “Jarvis?”

“Agent Coulson has entered the fight as well.”

“Huh.” Tony skittered across the glass, and then Obie blew the shit out of everything, and he fell, catching himself on a metal strut. “We gotta blow the roof. Hawkeye! Get down there! Use your—.”

“I know which damn arrow to use!” Hawkeye fired and dropped through into the control room, sliding down a taut line. “Get Coulson clear!”

“Save me from true love.” Tony heaved, halfway up, straining, and Obie loomed large over him.

“Time to die, Tony.”

“Shut up, Obie!” Tony rattled off directions to Hawkeye, glad when Coulson took advantage of the line to get below because his little gun wasn’t doing anything. “Open up that tin can and face me when you kill me!” he shouted.

It was a shock when Obie pulled back and did just that, sitting like a toad in the belly of the beast. “This company is mine, and no one, not you, your pet, or your girlfriend is going to stop me!”

“Wow, you really drank the kool aid.” Tony groaned as he rolled up to lie flat. “Hawkeye, blow it!”

“You’ll die!”

“Do it!” Tony covered his bare spots as best he could and let the explosion take him, watching Obie fall to his death down into the reactor. “I hope Hawkeye runs,” he mumbled, and then it all went black.

********

“This new hobby of mine is a painful one,” Tony said, more to hear himself talk than anything. He could hear sirens in the distance, and he was sure most of his factory had been blown to smithereens, but he needed to rest a second. “Jarvis?”

There was no answer. Tony put his hand on his heart and felt the arc reactor stutter, blinking. He was alive, for now, but he was going to need a car battery in the very near future. “This sucks.”

“Mr. Stark?”  


“I’m alive. Sorta.” But Tony couldn’t make the suit move. “Got a can opener?”

 “Stay calm. Agent Coulson is in route.”

“Great.” Tony hated that he needed help, and he was sure that whatever assistance Shield provided, he’d be paying on that bill forever. Somehow, they hoisted him onto a gurney and got him into a quinjet, clearing the area before the police stumbled over him. “Hawkeye? Where is Clint?” he asked over and over again, but no one would meet his eyes, and Coulson walked away without answering. Tony honestly thought he’d be taken to a secret lair where his suit would be confiscated for the good of the government, but they took him home. The bots labored to extract him, and the techs from the quinjet lent a hand, and finally when his feet hit the floor, he might’ve passed out for a minute or two.

When it all swam back into focus, he was alone, and for the first time in a long time, he was really alone.

“Sir?”

“I’m here.” Tony appreciated the bottle of water that Dummy dropped on top of him. “I got him killed, J.”

There was a long pause. “I highly doubt it, sir.”

Tony let that process. He fell asleep before he came to any conclusions, and thanks to Pepper and Rhodey, he woke up in his bed. His hand went for his arc reactor, and he could feel it, damaged but chugging away.

“You done being an asshole?” Rhodey asked, leaning against a wall and pointing at the bedside table. Tony stretched, yelping in pain, before struggling to the Tylenol and Gatorade. While he was swallowing, Rhodey had more to say. “No sign of your pet. No body. Nothing.”

“Shield has him.” Tony was sure of it, even if he hadn’t been before that moment. “My pet is a notorious assassin, known as Hawkeye in criminal circles. His partners tossed him into traffic, and I unwittingly purchased him at the pound. Shield had been after him for years.”

Rhodey’s gaping jaw said everything.

“What? You thought I’d have a normal pet?” Tony barked a laugh and started stumbling for the shower. “Where’s Pepper?”

“She took the day off.” Rhodey followed him partway. “The press is going crazy over this. You’ll have to make a statement.”

“Jarvis, call Agent Coulson. Tell him I’m very disappointed in him.” Tony started the shower sequence. “And prep for a new arc reactor. Oh, and Rhodey? Could you go pull out a battery from one of the cars? I’m sure Jarvis will have an opinion about which one.”

“Your life is weird,” Rhodey said, but he trooped away. Tony took the time to get clean, glad he was alive to do it.

“Sir, Agent Coulson says he’s devastated.”

“Right. He’s an asshole.” Tony moved slowly, knowing he was pushing this old reactor to the limit. He skipped putting on the shirt and took the elevator down to his shop. Rhodey eased him into his operating chair, and he set up the light and the computer without asking for help. 

“Dummy, get the wiring toolkit.”

Dummy moved fast for once, and Tony let Rhodey put it within easy reach. Once again, he lay back and removed his arc reactor. The poor thing had done its job to its last breath. That was good engineering. Rhodey took it from him, and together they fastened together a wiring harness for the battery. The seconds it took seemed to last forever, and he didn’t take a deep breath until Jarvis pronounced himself satisfied.

“This time, make a few spares.” Rhodey flopped down onto the nearest chair, wiping his forehead. “That was nerve-wracking.”

“Poor platypus.” Tony wiped his own brow and stayed still, letting everything settle. “Obie’s really dead, right?”

“Did you see him die? Because no one has said a word about it on the news.”

“He’s dead.” Tony shivered, unable to muster any hatred now that it was over. “I trusted him.”

“You’re an easy mark.” Rhodey rubbed his face. “God, when I think of the things I did for him.”

“Yeah, you suck.” Tony used the mirror to check the connections again. “And I have to lug around a battery for the near future.”

“I’d stay, but I’m due back at base.” Rhodey checked his watch.

“Uh, huh.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Jarvis, ask my chef to cook some food.” He would eat and then spend hours designing and building his next arc reactor. “Rhodey, we’re good, right?”

“Yeah. Sorry I was a douchebag.”

“Me too.” Tony laughed at Rhodey’s frown. “Go to work. I’m fine.” And he was, for the first time in forever. He felt fine.

“Am I still fired?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony grinned at him. “I’m out of the weapon’s business.” He was, and like Yinsen had said, he was going to make his life count.


	9. Chapter 9

The instant he pushed the arc reactor into his chest, he was ready. Pepper waited for him, but he was on time. He read the prepared statement with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips. The press could make up all the wild stories they wanted, but he had people to protect and that meant he’d hide his identity.

“Who is Iron Man?” Everhart got right in his face as he left the podium.

“Why, Miss Everhart, aren’t I enough for you? You need a metal man as well?”

She flushed, and he made his escape to the back room where Coulson and Pepper waited for him. Pepper smiled. “Good job, Tony.”

Coulson nodded, and Tony marched right to him, having waited for this moment. “How long?”

There was a beat. Coulson narrowed his eyes. “How long?”

“How long do you think I’m going to allow you to keep my property?” Tony lowered his voice and puffed his chest. “How long?”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Coulson’s mouth. “We apprehended a wanted fugitive during the Iron Man incident.”

“Is that how you’re playing it?” Tony snarled the question.

“No chip. Not a pet, clearly. He pled guilty to numerous crimes.” Coulson shrugged, smoothing his tie. “Clint Barton, a registered pet, died in a vehicular accident months ago. Would you like to see the paperwork?”

“Tony?” Pepper looked upset.

“Walk with me. We’ll provide cover to your vehicle.” Coulson took over in a blink, and Tony went along because every step was one closer to his suit. Happy had the limo, and Coulson helped Pepper inside before sliding in before Tony. The press screamed, people pushed, and Tony held up his now trademark peace sign before ducking inside. He slammed the door and took the drink from Hawkeye’s hand. Taking a long drink, keeping his eyes on the two jerks, he didn’t even blink in surprise.

“Told ya.” Hawkeye smirked.

Coulson handed over ten dollars.

“You are an asshole,” Tony said, waving his drink at Hawkeye. “Jarvis has been worried, and Dummy is despondent!”

“I was under arrest, making it hard to come by and play with your bots!” Hawkeye was loud, but he was relaxed. Coulson very casually put his hand on Hawkeye’s thigh, and as Tony watched, Clint just as casually put his hand on top. Tony made a quick sign with his free hand, and Clint gave him a tiny nod.

“Pepper almost cried!” Tony wasn’t quitting yet.

“I did get a little teary-eyed.” Pepper nodded. “Your tacos are the best.”

“Pepper, I’m very sorry. There was a lot of paperwork after I arrested him,” Coulson said, regret in his voice. “We’d been looking for him for years.”

“I’m special.” Clint grinned.

“I’ll allow this whole hiring him thing, but I expect weekend visitation rights.” Tony made sure to sound pompous. “After all, I adopted him. Technically, he’s my son.”

Coulson gave Hawkeye the side-eye. Hawkeye shrugged. “You try telling Tony not to do stupid shit. You two figure out which fake paperwork to go with and leave me out of it. I’m a Stark now, rich beyond my wildest dreams, and I don’t do paperwork.”

“What I don’t understand,” Tony said, serious now, “is why you didn’t just storm my house and arrest him?”

“Why would we? You needed backup, and we know where you live.” Coulson smirked. “We were only concerned that you were being fooled by his pretty face.”

Tony glared. “Did you just insult Jarvis and his ability to ferret out secrets? I think you did. Also, Clint is many things, but pretty isn’t one of them.”

“Hey!” Hawkeye protested.  


Pepper looked surprised. “Everyone was playing games.” 

“He’s, like, a spy,” Hawkeye said, nudging Coulson with his shoulder. “Prettiest spy ever.”

Tony laughed at the look on Coulson’s face. “Watch your step, Coulson, or I’ll be your father-in-law by the end of the month.”

Hawkeye leaned against Coulson’s shoulder. “I knew he’d get the last word.”

They piled out when they got to the mansion, and Coulson escorted Pepper inside with a hand under her elbow. Tony pulled Hawkeye back. “You’re sure?”

“They gave me a job. I can’t do nothing the rest of my life, like you. Also, Phil is it for me.” Hawkeye stared after him with a small smile on his face. “Guess I’ll get you another pet.”

Putting his hand on Hawkeye’s shoulder, Tony relaxed. “I’m good. Also, I’m happy for you. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Fury has plans.” Hawkeye hurried after Coulson, pulling Tony along. “Jarvis, I’m home!” he sing-songed as he stepped inside the foyer.

“You have been missed, Mr. Stark.” Jarvis used Hawkeye’s new last name, and Tony laughed at how they all flinched a little. “Sir has been downhearted.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but he smiled. Pepper was heading for her office, Happy was parking the car, and Hawkeye was taking Coulson downstairs to show off his nest. Tony took a very deep breath. “Thanks, Yinsen.”

********  
The end


End file.
